
M 









Play School Series 
Edited by Clar\ W, Hetherinyton 



EDUCATING BY 
STORY-TELLING 

SHOWING THE 

VALUE OF STORY-TELLING AS AN EDUCATIONAL 

TOOL FOR THE USE OF ALL WORKERS 

WITH CHILDREN 

BY 

Katherine Dunlap Gather 

Autkor of "Boyhood Stories of Famous Men," 

."Pan and His Pipes and Otker Stories." 

"The Singing Clock" 

) 




YonJ{ers- on -Hudson , New Ibri^ 

WORLD BOOK COMPANY 

1918 



WORLD BOOK COMPANY 

THE HOUSE OF APPLIED KNOWLEDGE 
Established, 1905, by Caspar W. Hodgson 

YoNKERS-ON-HtTDSON, NeW YoRK 

2126 Prairie Avenue, Chicago 

The Play School Series, of which Educat- 
ing by Story-Telling is a member, is based 
on the work of the Demonstration Play 
School of the University of Cahfornia. 
Breaking away from the traditional idea 
of the subjects of study, this school has 
substituted a curriculum of activities — 
the natural activities of child life — out of 
which subjects of study naturally evolve. 
Succeeding volumes now in active prepa- 
ration will relate to the other activities 
which form the educational basis for the 
work of the Play School, including Social, 
Linguistic, Moral, Big-Muscle, Rhythmic 
and Musical, Environmental and Nature, 
and Economic Activities. Each volume 
will be written by a recognized authority 
in the subject dealt with, as the author of 
Educating by Story-Telling is in her special 
field 



SEP -3 1318 



Copyright, 1918, by World Book Company 
All rights reserved 



©ru5';;^2^0 



AUTHOR'S PREFACE 

THIS book has grown out of years of experience 
with children of all ages and all classes, and with 
parents, teachers, hbrarians, and Sunday School, social 
center, and settlement workers. The material com- 
prising it was first used in sometliing Uke its present 
form in the University of Ccdifornia Summer Session, 
igi/i, and since then has been the basis of courses 
given in that institution, as well as in private classes 
and lecture work. The author does not claim that it 
is the final word upon the subject of story-teUing, or 
that it will render obsolete any one of the several ex- 
cellent works already upon the market. But the 
response of children to the stories given and sug- 
gested, and the eagerness with which the principles 
herein advocated have been received by parents and 
teachers, have convinced her that the book contains 
certain features that are unique and valuable to those 
engaged in directing child thought. 

Other works have shown in a general way how vast 
a field is the realm of the narrator, but they have not 
worked out a detailed plan that the busy mother or 
teacher can follow in her efi'ort to estabhsh standards, 
to lead her small charges to an appreciation of the 
beautiful in literature and art, and to endow them 
with knowledge that shall result in creating a higher 
code of thought and action. No claim is made that 
all the problems of the school and home are solved 
in the ensuing pages, and the title, "Educating by 
Story-Telling," makes no assumption that story- 
telling can accomphsh everything. The author does 

iii 



iv Author s Preface 

assume, however, that when used with wisdom and 
skill, the story is a powerful tool in the hands of the 
educator, and she attempts to indicate how, by this 
means, some portion of drudgery may be eHminated 
from the schoolroom, and a more pleasurable element 
be put into it. She undertakes to demonstrate how 
it is possible to intensify the child's interest in most 
of the subjects composing the curriculum, not by 
advancing an untried theory, but by traveling along a 
path that has been found to be a certain road to attain- 
ment, not only for the gifted creative teacher, but for 
the average ordinary one who is often baffled by the 
bigness of the problem she has to solve. 

Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to 
use copyrighted material as follows : to the Whitaker, 
Ray, Wiggin Company for the story entitled " The 
Search for the Seven Cities " (page i/ig) ; to Dr. David 
Starr Jordan and A. C. McClurg & Co. for " The Story 
of a Salmon " (page 255) and " The Story of a Stone " 
(page 33i) ; to the David C. Cook Company for " The 
Pigeons of Venice" (page 268), "The Duty That 
Wasn't Paid" (page 278), " Wilhelmina's Wooden 
Shoes" (page 288), "The Luck Boy of Toy Valley" 
(page 3o2), and " The Pet Raven " (page 817) ; and to 
Henry Holt & Co. for "The Emperor's Vision" 
(page 3o6). 

Katherine Dunlap Cather 



CONTENTS 
PART ONE 

Story-Telling and the Arts of Expression — 
Establishing Standards 

PAQB 

Author's Preface {^ 

Editor's Introduction Jx 

CHAPTER 

I. The Purpose and Aim of Story-Telling ... 1 

II. The Story Interests of Childhood — A. Rhythmic 

Period 12 

Sources of Story Material for the Rhythmic Period . 19 

III. The Story Interests of Childhood — B. Imagina- 

tive Period . . 20 

Bibliography of Fairy Tales 31 

IV. The Story Interests of Childhood — C. Heroic 

Period 32 

Sources of Story Material for the Heroic Period . . 41 
V. The Story Interests of Childhood — D. Romantic 

Period ......... 42 

Sources of Story Material for the Romantic Period . 51 

VI. Building the Story 52 

VII. Telling the Story 58 

Books on Story-TelUng 68 

VIII. Story-Telling to Lead to an Appreciation of Lit- 
erature ......... 69 

Some Authors and Selections That Can Be Presented 
through the Story-Telling Method . . . .81 

Sources of Material to Lead to an Appreciation of 
Literature 82 

IX. Story-Telling to Awaken an Appreciation of 

Music 83 

Illustrative Story, "A Boy of Old Vienna" ... 89 

Sources of Material to Awaken an Appreciation of Music 94 

Pictures to Use in Telling Musical Stories ... 94 

V 



vi Contents 

CHAPTER PAGE 

X. Stoby-Telling to Awaken an Appreciation of Art 95 
Artists and Paintings That Can Be Presented to Young 

Children through the Story-Telling Method . , 102 
Artists and Paintings for Children of the Intermediate 

Period 103 

Artists and Paintings That Lead to Appreciation of the 

Beautiful and to Respect for Labor . . . .104 
Artists and Paintings for the Heroic and Epic Periods . 105 
Bibliography of Art Story Material . . . .105 
Sources for Moderate-Priced Reproductions of Master- 
pieces 106 

XL Dramatization 107 

Pictures Containing Subjects for Dramatization . .116 
Books and Stories for Use in Dramatic Work with Little 

Children 116 

Bibliography of Material for Dramatization . . 117 

XII. Bible Stories ] '. ~~ 118 

Sources of Material for Bible Stories . _. . 131 

XIII. Story-Telling and the Teaching of Ethics . . 132 

Stories to Develop or Stamp out Certain Traits and 

Instincts ......... 137 

Sources of Material to Use in the Teaching of Ethics . 140 

PART TWO 

The Use of Story-Telling to Illuminate Some 
Schoolroom Subjects — Stories for Telling 

XIV. Story-Telling to Intensify Interest in History . 143 

Illustrative Story, "The Search for the Seven Cities" . 149 

XV. Story-Telling to Intensify Interest in Geography . 168 

Illustrative Story, "The God of the Thundering Water " 174 

Sources of Material to Use in History and Geography . 177 

XVI. Story-Telling to Intensify Interest in Nature 

Study 178 

Illustrative Story, "The Wonderful Builders" . . 188 

Sources of Material for Science Stories . . . 191 



Contents vii 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XVII. Story-Telling in Domestic Science and Manual 

Training 192 

Illustrative Story, "The Dervish of Mocha" . . 195 
Sources of Material to Use in Domestic Science and 

Manual Training ....... 197 

XVIII. Does the Work of the Story-Teller Pay? . . 198 



Stories for Telling 

The Story of the Man in the Moon (Alsatian Folk Tale — 

Christmas Story — Ethics, teaching honesty) .... 203 

The Discontented Pig {Thuringian Folk Tale — Ethics, teaching 

contentment) .......... 204 

The Bat and His Partners {Old Bavarian Folk Tale — Helpful in 

Nature Study) 208 

Brier Rose {Wonder Tale) 209 

The Coat of All Colors {Thuringian Wonder Tale) . . . 212 
The Poor Man and the Rich Man {Folk Tale — Ethics, leaching 

kindness) .......... 218 

The Silver Cones {Ethics — Geography) 222 

The Forget-Me-Not {Thuringian Folk Tale — Helpful in Nature 

Study) 226 

The Little Stepmother {Thuringian Folk Tale — Nature Study) . 227 

The Rabbit and the Easter Eggs {Bavarian Folk Tale) . . 228 

The Easter Eggs {Ethics) 229 

Prince Unexpected {Slavic Wonder Tale) 239 

The Greedy Cobbler {Welsh Folk Tale — Ethics, teaching content- 
ment) 251 

The Story of a Salmon {Science) . . . . . i . 255 

The Pigeons of Venice {History) 263 

The Coming of the Wonder Tree {Geography — Nature Study) . 269 

The Gift of the Gnomes {Geography — Ethics) .... 274 

The Duty That Wasn't Paid {Biography — Music — Ethics) . 278 

Wilhelmina's Wooden Shoes (Btogrrap/iy — Art Teaching) . . 283 

The Lady of Stavoren {Geography — Ethics) .... 289 

The Luck Boat of Lake Geneva {Geography) .... 295 



viii Contents 

PAOH 

Why the Japanese Love the Stork (Geography) .... 296 
Why Grizzly Bear Goes on All Fours (Indian Folk Tale — Geog- 
raphy—Ethics) 299 

The Luck Boy of Toy Valley (Geography — Ethics — Manual 

Training) .......... 302 

The Emperor's Vision (Medieval Legend — Ethics) . . . 306 

The Shepherd Who Turned Back (Ethics) 311 

The Pet Raven (Geography — Ethics) 317 

Jussieu and the Hehotrope (Science — Nature Study) . . . 325 

The Fall of London Bridge (History) 326 

How They Came to Have Kite Day in China (Physical Educa- 
tion) J . . . . 330 

The Story of a Stone (Science) 331 

LIST OF STORIES BY MONTHS 

First Grade : September to June 341 

Second Grade : September to June 345 

Third Grade : September to June 348 

Fourth Grade : September to June 352 

Fifth Grade : September to June 356 

Sixth Grade : September to June 360 

Seventh Grade : September to June 363 

Eighth Grade : September to June 367 

COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 371 

INDEX 389 



EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION 

THE story is a phase of communication — the in- 
stinctive tendency to signal and transmit feel- 
ings and ideas and to respond to such expressions — 
and communication is associated with the social com- 
plex of instincts and emotions as indicated by these 
responses. Through the power of social sympathy 
in this complex, curiosity and the imagination are 
brought under the sway of communication, especially 
in the story. Indeed, the psychology of the story 
reveals how deeply social sympathy influences the 
imagination and controls curiosity. The primitive 
side of this social sympathy is seen in the responses 
of social animals to the calls of their kind, in the rush 
of dogs and men to the cries of battle. Its power over 
the imagination is shown in the swaying of the specta- 
tor to the movements of the athlete, his ejaculations 
and his cries of distress or delight. Through sympathy 
in imagination the spectator enters the contest. 
Further, so socially minded are we, and so depend- 
ent upon social guidance, that curiosity is nowhere so 
keen, nor the imagination so active, as in the com- 
munication of a Ufe situation. Any incident or ac- 
cumulation of incidents that we call a plot in the 
experience of an individual or group of individuals, 
grips the mind. This explains the fascination of the 
story. Gossip and scandal are the less worthy forms. 
The novel is exalted gossip or scandal ; the drama 
the same acted out. They all feed the tremendous 
hunger for insight into life. They unroU the curtain 
on the content of life, or some phase of life. Hence 
the story is the natural form for reveahng life. 



X Editor's Introduction 

Communication, like life, may be either serious or 
frivolous; hence the story carries both functions. It 
pictures or expresses life in both phases. But the 
form of the story itself is pleasurable ; and thus story- 
telhng may degenerate into mere amusement. This 
possibly has led to both its abuse and its neglect. 

The fact that the story is so enjoyable to children 
has led teachers and parents to use it merely as amuse- 
ment, irrespective of content, or even of artistic form. 
This tendency has been met by publishers. As proof, 
note the books exhibited at Christmas time in any 
bookshop. They show the enormous amount of trash 
set up in book form for child consumption. This is 
a more serious danger than the trash read by adults, 
because they are food for hungry minds at the growing 
age. The importance is shown of selecting stories 
according to recognized criteria. While the child 
enjoys the story, he has no judgment of values in the 
story other than its pleasure-giving quaUties. As 
judgment is a product of education, so judging values 
is an adult function ; the adult must study all stories, 
but not tell all stories. The story-teller must analyze 
the story plot, criticize the values, select and adapt 
stories to age periods and to other child needs. This 
task Mrs. Cather has performed in her book. 

The mere fact that the story amuses has caused a 
neglect of its larger functions in education. This is 
due to the traditional attitude toward the pleasurable 
in education. Education is life, and synonymous with 
the joys and griefs of life ; but the traditions of the 
school when it was a place simply to master the three 
R's, and the traditions of intellectuahsm, monkish 



Editor's Introduction xi 

asceticism, and Puritanism, have conspired to per- 
petuate the idea of education as a "hard" process. 
That it is "hard" is demonstrated by the vast number 
of children who dishke school and drop out of it before 
finishing the grades, and by the small number of those 
who go through its process and think of education and 
its discipline with delight. Yet this is what all normal, 
vigorous children should feel. There is probably no 
more profound or serious issue in education or de- 
mocracy — and democracy depends on education — 
than this conflict between the advocates of a school 
process that is "hard" and the advocates of a process 
that is "pleasurable." The arguments exhibit the 
two extremes in all such controversies : the advocates 
of "disciphne," "iron," "the bitter pill" on the one 
hand, and the advocates of "freedom" and "enjoy- 
ment," — really soft pedagogy and Hcense, — on the 
other. The truth, as is usually the case, lies between 
the two schools. Both are right in part, and both 
are wrong in part. Both see an essential, and both 
fail to see the reverse side of what each advocates. 
There is no conflict between real disciphne and real 
pleasure ; they cannot be separated in child life. 
This being so, the story is bound to take a large place 
in the teaching of the future. 

The story amuses, but its function is not merely 
to amuse. Pleasure is not the aim of life, nor even 
its sole guide ; it is an index of hfe, especially in the 
young. 

The point needs to be emphasized that the story is 
the carrier, always has been the carrier, and will 
remain the natural carrier of racial tradition or informa- 



Xll 



Editor s Introduction 



tion and ideals. The story in education has two func- 
tions : (i) it is the molder of ideals, and (2) it is the 
illuminator of facts. 

(i) The highest and most difficult achievement in 
educational effort is the estabhshment of standards 
or ideals that function in judgment and behavior. 
The place of the story in moral education has been 
emphasized by many writers. Its place in develop- 
ing an appreciation of artistic forms in language, in 
music, and in the graphic arts is splendidly illustrated 
in this book. 

Appreciation is an emotional response, primarily 
instinctive, but developed through experience and 
according to high or low artistic standards by social 
approval or disapproval. In the emotional response 
hes interest and in the character of the emotional re- 
sponse Hes the character of the interest. The interest 
may be crude, vulgar, or vicious, or it may be ideal, 
but in either case it is a product of developed emotional 
habits. In the hfe of the child this emotional response 
precedes the intellectual judgment of artistic values 
which comes later and only through contrast and com- 
parison, and the former is vastly more important in 
social significance for the pleasure of the mass than 
the latter. This development of the artistic emotional 
response may be cleverly guided through the story, 
as Mrs. Gather shows, and she gives a wealth of sug- 
gestions for the use of the teacher. 

But the story itself is a form of artistic expression 
and thus subject to the application of standardizing 
judgments. A good story must be judged by a double 
standard. It may be good in the sense that it is weU 



Editor's Introduction xiii 

told — and well told means simply that the incident 
or plot is related in sequence, with such emphasis and 
form of language that it grips the human instinctive 
response to the dramatic; or it may be good in the 
sense that it carries a good content in meaning or ideal. 
These two standards may not, frequently do not, 
coincide. A story may be so told that it is most fas- 
cinating, and yet the content be mere rubbish or even 
vicious ; or the content may be correct and the teUing 
so poorly done that it kills interest. 

Many stories are told because of their "beauty" 
of form, where the content is not true. Some such 
stories are valuable because of the standardizing 
sentiments they carry, but truth is as important at 
least as the aesthetic. The human intellect evolved 
to interpret meanings and progressively perfect be- 
havior adjustments. Each age of racial experience 
brings on its new interpretations, and broadly, each 
age makes advances upon that which preceded. Old 
theories fall, new truths arise; but old theories hold 
sway over the imagination of the masses long after 
the leaders have accepted higher truths because the 
old is well told while the new lacks the poetic ex- 
pression of the artist. Literature is well-told in- 
formation, yet under the guise of literature goblins 
and superstitions and worn-out theories parade in 
the imagination and thus mold ideals and behavior. 

The problem of the professional story-teller of the 
future is to tell the best information of the age in as 
fascinating a form as the old myths and fables 
are now told after years of repetition. Only in 
this way can contemporary popular opinion be kept 



xiv ' Editor's Introduction 

abreast of the scientific truth of the time, instead of 
dragging along in the superstitions of the past. 

Some stories are told though untrue, because they 
"develop the imagination," but this by itself is a 
dangerous criterion. The function of the imagination 
is to reconstruct the world in mental terms which will 
guide behavior. The functioning of the imagination 
in any kind of images will develop "power," but the 
power may be detrimental individually and socially 
if the images cause crooked thinking. Straight think- 
ing depends on the imagination — on the kind of 
emotionalized images which habitually arise in any 
thought situation or problem. Just so far as stories 
are untrue and without great moral value, yet are 
fascinatingly told, so far do they encourage untrue 
imagining and emotional attitudes, and therefore untrue 
tliinking. And inasmuch as the emotional response to 
the single interpretative concept, the single vision of 
life, is vastly stronger through tradition than the interest 
in the discovery of complex relationships, — and truth 
comes finally only through the latter, — the emotional- 
ized habits of imagination in interpretation are pro- 
foundly important for democracy. 

Democracy cannot exist with a population of fuzzy 
thinkers. Story-telling, like all educational effort, 
must develop the imagination in mental terms that 
will function in life today. 

(2) The story is an illuminator of facts. The child 
gets his information by activities in relation to the 
environment, by exploration, observation, experimen- 
tation, with the everlasting play of the interpretative 
processes, and by responding to and accepting or re- 



Editor's Introduction xv 

jecting the communicated interpretations put upon 
phenomena by his social group. In this process of 
interpretation there is the immediate environment 
which can be sensed, but is understood only through 
its reconstruction in the imagination, largely in lin- 
guistic terms ; and the remote environment which 
cannot be sensed and which can be understood only 
as it is built in the imagination as an extension of the 
reconstructed sensed environment. In these recon- 
structive processes the story is the most powerful 
correlating and illuminating educational force we have, 
as may be indicated by a brief analysis. 

The activities of the school curriculum dealing with 
the environment have two natural foci of interest for 
the child, (a) The civic-geographical-historiceJ com- 
plex (when rightly organized just one subject) and 
(6) the physical-biological complex, which is now 
coming to be called "general science." For the child 
these two groups of the environmental activities cover 
the whole of adult science, philosophy, and religion, 
and both require a tremendous reconstructive func- 
tioning of the imagination. 

(a) The first group is a new coming correlation 
which naturally must carry with it organized com- 
munication or the larger share of language and litera- 
ture. The investigation of the local social environment 
is the basis of all "civics, " "geography, " and " history." 
It expands as civics. When the child projects his 
interpretations of any human activity into another 
environment so that he is reconstructing in his im- 
agination the hfe habits and customs of the people 
in relation to the physical and biological characteris- 



xvi Editor s Introduction 

tics of the country, he is studying geography. Wlien 
he goes backward in time in this process, he is study- 
ing history. 

In this concentric widening of the intellectual horizon 
concerning human life and its relationships to the 
environment, the imagination must reconstruct a 
world which it cannot sense. The facts may be gained 
from pictures, maps, descriptions, but to become 
functional in thought in any other than in a mere 
commercial sense, the reconstruction must touch the 
emotions so that the life and conditions of living of 
the people will be felt. When felt the life will be dwelt 
upon in imagination, and when dwelt upon in imagina- 
tion it will function in the life activities of the child. 
Giving this vivid, felt insight into the life conditions 
of other people is the function of the story. Through 
the hunger to feel Kfe the story reveals life. 

(b) The story also functions for children in the 
interpretation of the physical-biological environment 
or "general science." 

Between six and fourteen years of age is the neglected 
period for science, and it is the age when the story may 
function in the biggest way as a natural educational 
tool. Yet so absorbed are school men in the problem 
of drilUng children in the dissected elements of the 
written language that they do not even understand 
one of the two chief characteristics of child nature at 
this age, — the rapidly expanding curiosity concern- 
ing nature. It is the age of the first crude control of 
the "scientific instinct," the tendency to experiment 
and explore. It is the age for fi:xing the questioning 
habit and building a common-sense confidence in and 



Editor s Introduction xvii 

familiarity with nature. These results follow from the 
logical processes involved in the activities, not from 
being presented with the formalized and logical results 
of adult science. The child wUl have none of this 
latter if he can help it; he wants to do his own ex- 
perimenting. In this process again the story gives 
the larger insight. The child acquires facts by ex- 
perimentation, observation, exploration, but the larger 
meanings and relationships require imaginative recon- 
struction. The child can observe the fish or the fly 
at different stages of their development, but the story 
of the life history of the fish or fly gives what observa- 
tion cannot supply. It is as fascinating as any fairy 
tale when told with the same consideration for dramatic 
form, and the story is true besides. The child cannot 
understand evolution as presented by Darwin, or by 
the teacher of biology in the high schools ; but the 
child even of eight revels in the stories that carry 
the facts of evolution, and thus he gains a right feeling 
towards the wonderful meaning of the progress of 
natural things, which makes later tliinking true and 
easy. So strong is the response to the story that even 
the history of physical things when set in a natural 
story form, stimulates. 

The fairy tales of the future wiU be well-told stories 
from our sciences or human hfe and nature, the two 
natural centers of interest in the enviroimient, and 
we may expect as results in public opinion a broader 
common sense and a lessened gullibility. In this 
organization of science and modern thought in story 
form for its larger use in education the professional 
story-teUer has still a great unfinished task to perform. 



xviii Editor s Introduction 

Its beginnings are in this book, and Mrs. Gather is 
aheady at work on a broader compilation of materials 
for a later volume. In this larger functioning of the 
story the old fairy tales and myths will take their place 
as historical data to give comparative insight into the 
beliefs of people in the past, a sympathetic understand- 
ing of their limitations in knowledge, and an apprecia- 
tion of our privileges in civihzation, due largely to the 
struggles of the past. 

Clark W. Hetherington 



PART ONE 

STORY-TELLING AND THE ARTS OF EXPRESSION 
ESTABLISHING STANDARDS 



EDUCATING BY STORY-TELLING 

CHAPTER ONE 
The Purpose and Aim of Story-Telling 

EVER since the beginning of things the story-teller 
has been a personage of power, an individual 
welcomed by young and old alike. Hailed as a joy 
bringer and heeded as an oracle, his tales have been 
the open sesame to admit him to any throng and his 
departure has always been attended with regret. 
During the Middle Ages he was a privileged character, 
free to wander at will into camp or court. The Piso 
manuscript in the museum at Budapest tells of the 
solicitous effort made by Ladislaus of Hungary to 
secure safe-conduct through Bohemia and Austria for 
a favorite narrator, and many other old chronicles 
attest to the fact that in France, Germany, Italy, and 
the British Isles passports were given to minstrels 
and raconteurs when no one else could obtain them. 
Long before this period, during the nomadic existence 
of the race, the mightiest men of the tribe were the 
chieftain and the story-teller, the one receiving homage 
because of his abihty to vanquish his adversaries in 
battle, the other because of his skill in entertaining 
his fellows as they huddled around the fire at night. 
Each ability was believed to be evidence of divine 
gifts, and the possessor of each was revered as being 
a little higher than a mortal, a httle lower than a god. 
Primitive man, like civilized man, was fond of power, 
and reahzing that his talents made him mighty, the 

1 



2 Educating by Story-Telling 

narrator exercised them in such a manner as to pro- 
mote their development. Every emotional response 
on the part of his hearers served as a key to unlock 
doors into the land of his desire, and as he listened to 
exclamations of approval, condemnation, or delight, 
he saw ways of arousing these emotions to even greater 
degrees of intensity and, possessing an elemental 
love of the spectacular, made the most of his oppor- 
tunity. Thus he evolved from a crude declaimer into 
something of an artist. As the race emerged from 
a barbaric into a pastoral state, he grew to be more 
than an entertainer; he imparted knowledge to the 
young by keeping alive the tribal traditions. 

On the Asiatic highlands, before the Aryan migra- 
tion, it was the story-teller who preserved the tales 
of the fathers, the nature myths that were primitive 
man's explanation of the things he did not understand. 
The journey of the sun across the heavens, the shifting 
of clouds from one fantastic form to another, the chro- 
matic skies of sunrise and sunset, and the starry 
firmament of night aroused his curiosity and awakened 
his awe. He wondered about them just as children 
today wonder about them, and just as the twentieth- 
century child questions his mother, so he questioned 
one whom he deemed wiser than himself. This con- 
sulted oracle gave as an explanation something that 
out of his own wondering and puzzling had grown into 
a vague belief, and consequently the clouds that pre- 
saged showers came to be regarded as heavenly cows 
from whose exuberant udders came the rains that 
refreshed the earth ; stormy oceans and rugged moun- 
tains with ravines beset with perils held giants that 



The Purpose and Aim of Story-Telling 3 

avenged and destroyed ; while the sun, a beneficent 
creature that drove away the monster of darkness, 
and all the saving forces of nature, were metamor- 
phosed in the fancy of these early men into protecting 
heroes and divinities. 

As generation succeeded generation and the young 
received their allotment of lore from the old, these 
stories became fixed so firmly in the minds of the people 
that they were carried with them at the scattering 
of the tribes, told and retold in the new-found homes, 
and modified to suit conditions of hfe in strange lands 
the wanderers came to inhabit ; and they still survive 
as present-day fairy tales. There are various theories 
of how these old beliefs came to be disseminated, how 
it happened that tales supposed to be indigenous to 
Finland or Madagascar are found in slightly different 
dress among the tribes of Central Africa and in other 
sections of the world remote from each other; but 
no matter how much folklorists disagree as to the pro- 
cess through which the tales evolved to their present 
form, they do not difl^'er as to their significance, and 
whether they accept the Aryan theory promulgated by 
Max Miiller or the totemistic theory of Andrew Lang, 
they unite in a behef that these ancient tales represent 
the rehgion of primitive man, a rehgion growing out 
of fear of the unknown. 

Always it was by the lips of the story-teller that the 
legends were kept ahve. It was his mission to teach 
children the tales their fathers knew, and as the race 
evolved toward civilization he gave them something 
besides nature myths. He recounted and reiterated 
the achievements of the heroes of his people until 



4 Educating by Story-Telling 

youths who heard were fired with desire to emulate. 
Because he was deemed a man of supernal powers, 
his words were believed ; consequently he created the 
ideals of the age in which he lived, and just as his 
own standards were fine or base, so the ideals for 
which he was responsible came to be high or low. 
Fortunately for the world, however, these old-time 
narrators were wiser than their fellows. They were 
poets and dreamers who saw life through eyes vision 
clear. They glorified virtue and deprecated vice, 
taught that right triumphs over wrong and that sin- 
ning brings inevitable punishment, and explained in 
a crude way the workings of the law of compensation. 
They fired men to achievement just as they fired boys 
with desire to emulate the heroes of whom they told, 
and as centuries passed and they grew in skill and 
power, their tales came to be the inspiration of some 
of the most thrilling chapters in the annals of man. 
Alexander the Great declared that the lays of a wander- 
ing bard. Homer, made him thirst for conquest. In 
Germany, in the twelfth century, the influence of a 
penniless gleeman, Walther von der Vogelweide, was 
greater than that of the Pope. There was no more 
puissant man in Ireland when Ireland was in its golden 
day and Tara in its glory than the low-born minstrel, 
Brian of Fermanagh ; and the Crusades, which re- 
created Europe by the introduction of Eastern culture 
and the breaking down of old traditions, might never 
have been undertaken but for tales of defilement of 
holy places from the lips of Peter the Hermit. Story- 
tellers every one of them, swaying their fellows and 
making history, subjects of kings and nobles, yet 



The Purpose and Aim of Story-Telling 5 

often mightier than the masters who held their des- 
tinies in their hands. 

The power of the narrator did not die with chivalry. 
As recently as during the middle of the last century 
the clergy of Scotland united in an effort to suppress 
story-telling in the Highlands because it kept alive 
beliefs of pagan origin, beliefs so deep-seated that the 
combined eloquence of prelates could not eradicate 
them, and the strength of the church was impaired 
because of the sheltering of these waifs of the past. 
To this day there are peasants in Germany who doubt 
not that every year at harvest time Charlemagne 
WEdks beside the Rhine under the midnight moon and 
blesses the vineyard region of Winkel and Ingelheim. 
In central Switzerland are hundreds of simple folk 
who believe that on the summit where they met to 
take the oath that fired the land against Austria, 
sleep the immortal "Brothers of the Griitli," and that 
they will slumber on until the liberty of Helvetia is 
imperiled ; while in the southern portion of that moun- 
tain land the country folk are certain that prosperity 
will be the lot of every husbandman when the swan- 
drawn luck boat returns to Lake Geneva. Why.^^ 
Because their fathers in the far-off days believed these 
tales; because they have come down to them by the 
lips of the story-teller, and wherever there is no written 
language, wherever the people are too unlettered to 
read what is written, or where they hve in isolated 
communities and mingle little with the outside world, 
they still believe the legends. They love to hear them 
told and retold, and nothing brings so much pleasure on a 
winter night or in a summer gloaming as the complete 



6 Educating by Story-Telling 

family circle and the father or uncle or stranger from 
another community sitting in the midst repeating the 
old, old tales. 

As it is with unlettered peasants today, as it was 
with tribesmen in primitive times and with the great 
in medieval castle halls, it still is with the child. He 
lives over the experience of his fathers on the Asiatic 
highlands and sits entranced listening to the record 
of it in stories. The element of suspense, the wonder- 
ing what will happen next, holds him in a viselike grip, 
and the story hour is to him a period of joy. The here 
and now disappears as the narrator hfts his invisible 
wand, and the hstener journeys by roads of never 
ceasing wonders into lands of enchantment. Accord- 
ing to the skill of the raconteur, and the vividness with 
which he himself sees and feels the pictures he strives 
to portray, he makes his listeners see and feel them, 
rejoicing in the good fortune and sympathizing in the 
sorrows of the just and righteous ; and they not only 
follow along the highroad where he leads them, but 
roam off into pleasant bypaths where the fancy has 
free play. 

There is no age or racial limit to this story love. 
Representing, as it does, an emotional hunger that 
is the human heritage, it is universal. Several years 
ago at Five Points in New York City, a settlement 
worker discovered that a very effective means of gain- 
ing the confidence of immigrant women was to tell 
fairy tales, and recently some of the most gratifying 
results obtained in the Telegraph Hill district of San 
Francisco were made possible by a leader there gaining 
the good will of a group of Sicihan hoodlums because 



The Purpose and Aim of Story-Telling 7 

she knew the plot of Jerusalem Delivered and told the 
story magnetically and well. It was like a breeze from 
their native island, where they had heard it from 
the lips of the village story-teller and seen it pictm^ed 
on the market carts, and the fact that she knew some- 
thing that had fascinated them gained their sympathy 
and co5peration. Those who have even a limited 
knowledge of child life know that before the babe can 
read he delights in listening to a nursery tale, and that 
even after he journeys into bookland he is more in- 
terested in the story told him than in the one he reads 
for himself. WhyP Because the voice and person- 
ality of the speaker make it alive and vital. Because, 
as Seumas MacManus says, "The spoken word is 
the remembered word." 

The .tales heard during childliood become fixed and 
lasting possessions. They stay with the hearer through 
the years, and because their ideals become his ideals, 
do much toward shaping his character. The child 
who hears many good stories and unconsciously learns 
to distinguish between the tawdry and the real, reads 
good stories when a boy and becomes a man for whom 
sensational best sellers have no charm. 

There is much talk about the vicious tastes of the 
youth of this generation, and unfavorable comparisons 
between them and their elders at a similar age are 
frequently made. There is some foundation for this be- 
lief, but it is not the fault of the children that it is so. 
Because of the abundance and cheapness of books, many 
of them of questionable merit, boys and girls are left 
to browse unguided, and just as the range man is 
to blame if his hungry herd strays into a loco patch 



8 Educating by Story-Telling 

and eats of noxious weeds when he fails to drive it to 
the place of wholesome herbage, so it is the fault of 
parents and teachers if their charges acquire a taste for 
sensational yarns instead of for good literature. The 
very hunger that impels them toward that which con- 
taminates, if satisfied in a wholesome manner would 
make them lovers of the best, and the reason why 
children become devourers of "yellow" stories is be- 
cause they have failed to stumble upon a more fasci- 
nating and less dangerous highway, and no one has 
led them to it. There is no surer way of keeping a boy 
from becoming a devotee of the funny page of the 
Sunday supplement or a follower of "Nick Carter" 
than that of studying his tastes and giving him tales 
from good literature that will satisfy them. There is 
no more powerful means to use in diverting a child 
from the undesirable to the desirable than that of 
throwing a searchlight upon the attractions of the latter 
and presenting them to him through joyful experience. 
The narrator's art is in truth a magic luminary, an un- 
failing means of bringing hidden beauties to sight and 
causing them to be loved because they give pleasure. 

For a number of years it has been conceded that 
story-telhng is of value in the kindergarten and pri- 
mary school, but little provision has been made for 
it in the educational scheme for the older child. Grad- 
ually, however, educators in America have come to 
realize what their European colleagues realized long 
ago, that the narrator's art can be a powerful element 
in the mental, moral, and religious development of 
the boy and girl and can mean as much to the ado- 
lescent child as to the tiny tot. Consequently they 



The Purpose and Aim of Story-TelUng 9 

are now giving it an honored place. The story 
period has become a part of the program of every 
well-regulated library. Teachers of elementary and 
grammar grades are recognizing its value in the class- 
room, and in some states story-telling is included in the 
curriculum. Each year brings new texts and collec- 
tions from the publishers, until it seems that the art 
so much honored in the past is coming again into its 
own. 

Yet, with all the interest that is manifested through- 
out the country, story-teUing is not doing its greatest, 
most vital work, because so little thought is given to 
the selection of material, so little study to the response 
of children who hear the tales and the effect upon them. 
Before even half of its possibilities can be realized, 
those who tell stories must know the story interests 
of childhood and must choose materials, not only be- 
cause they are beautiful in theme and language and 
embody high ideals, but because they are fitted to the 
psychological period of the child who is to hear them. 
They must realize that the purpose of story-teUing is 
not merely to entertain, although it does entertain, 
but that in addition to delighting young listeners 
there must be a higher aim, of which the narrator 
never loses sight. Every tale selected must contrib- 
ute something definite toward the mental, moral, or 
spiritual growth of the child, just as each pigment 
chosen by an artist must blend into the picture to help 
make a beautiful and perfect whole. The golden age 
of childhood will come and fear that young people's 
tastes are being vitiated will die out when parents and 
teachers reahze that much of the noblest culture of the 



10 Educating by Story-Telling 

past has been given through the medium of the story, 
and that it can be given through this medium now and in 
the future, because there is almost no type of information 
the child should receive that he will not receive joyously 
through this means, and with deep, lasting results. 
Story-telling planned and carried out to fit conditions 
will help to solve many of the problems that confront 
educators today. Besides developing the emotional 
nature and giving moral and religious instruction, it 
will intensify the interest in history, geography, nature 
study, manual training, and domestic science, awaken 
an appreciation of literature, art, and music, enrich 
the child's powers of discrimination, and teach him to 
distinguish between the cheap and ephemeral and the 
great and lasting. It will help to eliminate much of 
what he considers the drudgery of school life and give 
him information that will fit him for broad, sympa- 
thetic, useful living. 

This does not mean that the teacher is to do all the 
work, thereby fixing children in habits of idleness, 
nor does it mean the addition of an extra subject to 
an already overcrowded curriculum. It simply means 
leading the child to do things for himself because of 
the incentive that interest gives. It means illuminat- 
ing the formal subjects and sending pupils to them with 
greater eagerness. 

In order to accomplish these ends, story-telling must 
be unmarred by creaking machinery, and it must be 
sympathetic. The narrator must rise above the level 
of a mere lesson giver and approach the plane of the 
artist, which he can do only by giving an artist's prep- 
aration to his work. The old-time raconteur swayed 



The Purpose and Aim of Story-Telling 11 

the destiny of nations because he was an artist, be- 
cause he himself beheved in the message he brought. 
He put heart and labor into his work, which gave his 
words a sincerity that never failed to convince. So 
too must the present-day narrator believe in the power 
of the story and in the dignity of his work, and he 
must choose material with thought and judgment 
instead of snatching it up indifferently, thinking that 
any story will do if only it holds the interest. The 
racial tales should be given freely in the psychological 
period to which they belong, but not the racial tales 
only. There is much modern material close to present- 
day life and conditions, without which the child's 
education is not complete, and it must be classified and 
graded. This entails reference work for which the 
non-professional has neither time nor opportunity, 
and to this fact is due much of the valueless story-tell- 
ing of today. Experience with hundreds of parents, 
teachers, and workers with children has brought con- 
viction that a belief in the value of story-telling as an 
educational tool is sincere and general, but that sources 
of classified material are not available to the average 
child leader. It is partly to meet this need that the 
present work is planned. 



CHAPTER TWO 

The Story Interests of Childhood 

a. rhythmic period 

IF the work of the narrator is to be of real value, he 
must have a knowledge of the story interests of child- 
hood, for otherwise the talent of a Scheherazade, care- 
ful preparation, and an extensive repertoire will fail to 
produce the desired results, because a narrative that 
deals with mythical heroes cannot make a lasting 
impression upon a child who craves animal and prim- 
itive wonder tales, even though it be written in lan- 
guage and style suited to his understanding. The heart 
or framework of the story must be made up of events 
that are fraught with interest in his particular period 
of mental development, and must introduce personages 
with whom he would like to companion, and whose 
movements he will follow with approval, pity, condem- 
nation, or rejoicing. Under such conditions the boys 
or girls or dogs who contribute to the action of the tale 
are not strangers out of a book, but mean as much to 
him as the people and animals he knows, and because 
they do mean much he lives the tale. It becomes 
part of him and he of the story. His emotional nature 
is stirred, his power of evaluating is strengthened, and 
some of the foundation blocks of character are laid. 

Naturally the question arises, "How is one to know 
which tales to choose, when there is such a wealth of 
stories and such a diversity of interests ? Is there any 
rule or guide to keep the conscientious but untrained 
worker from the pitfalls and show him the right road 

12 



Story Interests in Rhythmic Period 13 

from the wrong?" Such a guide there is — the psy- 
chological axiom that the child between birth and 
maturity passes through several periods or stages of 
mental growth which determines his interests. 

The httle child, the one from the age of about three 
to six, is interested in familiar tilings. He has not 
yet reached the period of fancy during wliich he 
wanders into a world of make-beheve and revels 
with fairies and nixies, but dwells in a realm of 
realism. His attention is centered on the things 
and the personages he knows, — the mother, the 
father, dogs, cats, pigs, horses, cows, chickens, and 
children of his own age, — and consequently he en- 
joys stories and jingles about these creatures. He 
chuckles over the accounts of their merry experiences 
and sympathizes with them in their misfortunes, be- 
cause they lie close to his interests. This is why 
Mother Goose has been and is beloved of little children. 
The rhymes do not introduce griffins and ogres and 
monsters that must be seen through eyes of fancy to 
be seen at all, but abound in accounts of creatures 
he has beheld from his windows and associated with 
in his home. Mother Hubbard and her unfortunate 
dog, the crooked man and his grotesque cat, the pigs 
that went to market, and the old woman in the shoe 
lie close to his world because he knows dogs and cats 
and pigs and kind old women, and therefore the rhymes 
and jingles that portray them are dear to his heart. 

Especially fascinating in this period of early child- 
hood are stories that contain much repetijLion. "The 
Old Woman and Her Pig," " Little Red Hen," " Chicken 
Little," "The Gingerbread Man," and "The Three 



14 Educating by Story-Telling 

Billy Goats" delight little people, and although they 
have heard them again and again they always watch 
eagerly for the "Fire, fire, burn stick," "I saw it with 
my eyes, I heard it with my ears, and a piece of it fell 
on my tail," and are disappointed if the well-known 
expressions are omitted. The repetition strengthens 
the dramatic element and helps to make the pic- 
tures vivid, and the child loves to experience again the 
thrill he felt upon first listening to the tale. 

Stories introducing the cries and calls of animals 
are much loved at this period. The squeahng of the 
pig, the barking of the dog, the clucking of the hen, 
and the quacking of the duck give charm to a narra- 
tive because the child has heard those sounds in his 
own garden, in his own dooryard, and gJong the road, 
and knowing them, is interested in them. This is the 
secret of the success of many kindergarten tales that 
fall far below the requirements of a good story. Often 
almost devoid of plot and lacking in suspense element, 
still they hold the attention because of the animal 
cries and calls they contain. The little hearer chuckles 
as the baby pig squeals, the mother pig grunts, or the 
dog barks, and listens delightedly to what, without 
these cries and calls, would not interest him. 

This too is why the racial tales fascinate today 
just as they fascinated five hundred years ago. They 
have a clearly defined plot that of itself would hold the 
interest, they introduce familiar characters, contain 
much repetition, and abound in animal cries and calls. 

Broadly speaking, then, for the period of early child- 
hood, the time of realism which extends from the age 
of about three to five or six, the narrator should choose 



story Interests in Rhythmic Period 15 

stories of animal and child life, those which introduce 
sounds peculiar to the characters and which abound 
in repetition. 

But he should not make the mistake of following 
this rule too literally or his efforts will result in failure, 
because children live under widely different conditions. 
The boy of the city slums, whose horizon extends 
only from his own row of tenements to the next row 
up the street, will not be held by tales of cows and sheep, 
because he does not know cows and sheep. His knowl- 
edge of four-footed creatures is confined to dogs and 
cats and an occasional horse that goes by hitched to 
the wagon of a fruit or vegetable vender, and the tales 
that mean something to him are those of animals of 
his world, and of children. Many a settlement and 
socIeJ worker has learned the truth of this through 
sad experience. A most gifted story-teller in a New 
York settlement house gave to her group "The Ugly 
Duckhng," and gave it exquisitely too, but it meant 
nothing to the children because they never had been in 
the country. A barnyard was as remote from their 
interest as a treatise on philology is from that of a Fin- 
nish peasant. They did not know ducks and geese 
and chickens, and consequently punched their neigh- 
bors and grew pestiferous during the recital of a tale 
that would have entranced country children. 

The same mistake was made by a professional 
story-teller who gave a coyote tale to a group of Italian 
children. They never had met this "outcast in gray," 
never had shivered as he howled in the night, and the 
story brought no pictures before their eyes. They 
were inattentive and disorderly throughout its ren- 



16 Educating by Story-Telling 

dition, and the narrator declared them an impossible 
group. Yet that same afternoon a college girl with 
no special training in story-telling told them of a lost 
nanny goat, and they sat fascinated. In the first 
instance the trouble was not with the children but 
with the narrator. She knew much of technique but 
little of psychology and could not hold the children's 
attention, while the other girl, possessed of far less 
native ability, entertained them because she under- 
stood the story interests of childhood. The narrator 
must have, not only an understanding of the psycho- 
logical periods and interests of childhood, but a knowl- 
edge of the environment of the children with whom 
she works. 

There is a wealth of sources from which to draw for 
this early period. Often it is necessary to adapt 
material, because many a tale whose framework is 
suited to httle people is told in language beyond their 
understanding. "David and Jonathan," by Elizabeth 
Stuart Phelps, is a good example. Written for adults, 
yet it is so universal in its appeal that the lad of six 
listens to it with as much sympathy as his father or 
mother. The account of the affection of dog and master 
for each other, the pathos of the separation and the 
joy of the reunion, touch him as much as they touch 
his parents, and to receive it from the lips of one who 
feels and loves the tale will make him kinder to dumb 
animals and gentler to the aged. 

This is true of many another story that is the crea- 
tion of an artist. I mention particularly Ouida's 
"Dog of Flanders," John Muir's "Stickeen," and 
Ernest Thompson Seton's "Monarch, the Big Bear 



story Interests in Rhythmic Period 17 

of Tailac," each of which I have used with children of 

all ages. The characters in them are living, breathing 

creatures, the kind that if met in real life would arouse 

affection and awaken both laughter and tears, and 

whether these stories are told in monosyllabic language 

or colored by fine rhetorical effects, they strike the 

tender places and appeal to the best. When the 

child meets Nello before the altar of the cathedral in 

Antwerp, kneeling in front of a painting by Rubens 

and fondling his dog, he instinctively feels that this 

boy is not a stranger living in a far-away land and 

speaking a foreign language, but that he represents 

all the orphaned children in the world, and that his 

affection for his dog is the same tie that binds every 

other child to the pet he loves. So too with Monarch, 

the majestic captive of Golden Gate Park. He is not 

just a bear, a creature larger and more ferocious 

than many other animals. He typifies wild life caged, 

and the boy who has pitied him in listening to the 

account of his tramp, tramp, tramp about the pit, 

never quite forgets that proud but eternal unrest, 

the ever present longing for the white peaks and the 

pines. 

One need not fear that putting these stories into 
simple language may be deemed a sacrilegious act, 
or that telling the plot of a masterpiece will kill 
delight in that masterpiece itself. Goethe's mother, 
sitting in the firelight in their home, gave her boy 
tales from the old poets, creating in him a desire 
to read that helped to make him a profound student 
and master thinker. And the twentieth-century child 
will doubly enjoy reading a beautiful piece of litera- 



18 Educating by Story-Telling 

ture at some future day, because in the magical 
long ago it touched his heart. Workers with little 
children should be ever on the alert, seeking stories 
that deserve the name of literature, with plot and 
characters that will appeal to their small charges, 
because such stories mold a child's taste and give 
a key that will unlock doors into the great treasure 
house of art. Whenever the mother or teacher or 
hbrarian reads a story that is a literary gem, let 
her analyze it and determine whether or not, if told 
in simple language, it would delight a child. The old- 
time narrators who molded national taste and ideals 
did this constantly, and the great story-tellers are 
doing it today. 

Sicilian peasants, for instance, have a knowledge of 
the classics that amazes the average American. The 
stories are pictured on the market carts, those gaudy 
conveyances that brighten the island highways from 
Catania to Palermo, and the conversation of these 
simple folk is colored with allusions that would do 
credit to a professor of literature. Most of them can- 
not read, but they know the plots of Jerusalem 
Delivered, "Sindbad the Sailor," "The Merchant of 
Bagdad," and many more of the world's great stories. 
They heard the tales in cliildhood, and their fathers 
before them heard them from the lips of men who loved 
to tell them, and so they have become a national 
heritage. Let us do as much for the children of our 
land, that the men and women of the future may 
have a noble culture and more splendid possessions 
than their parents have, and let us do it in the world- 
old way, by story-telling. 



story Interests in RhytJimic Period 19 

Sources of Story Material for the Pihythmic Period 

Adams, William : Fables and Rhymes — ^^sop and Mother Goose. 

Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin : Firelight Stories. 

Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin, and Lewis, Clara : For the Children's 

Hour. 
Bryce, Catherine T. : Thai's Why Stories. 
Burnham, Maud : Descriptive Stories for A II the Year. 
Cooke, Flora J. : Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children. 
Davis, Mary H., and Chow-Leung : Chinese Fables and Folk Stories. 
Dillingham, Elizabeth, and Emerson, Adelle: "Tell It Again" 

Stories. 
Harrison, Elizabeth : In Story-land. 
HoLBROoK, Florence : 'Round the Year in Myth and Song. 
HoxiE, Jane : A Kindergarten Story Book. 
Jordan, David Starr : The Book of Knight and Barbara. 
Lindsay, Maud: Mother Stories; More Mother Stories. 
Miller, Olive Thorne : True Bird Stories. 
Milton Bradley Company : Half a Hundred Stories. 
MouLTON, Louise Chandler : Bed-time Stories. 
PiERSON, Clara D. : Among the Farmyard People. 
PouLssoN, Emilie : Child Stories and Rhymes. 
Richards, Laura E. : The Golden Windows; Five-Minute Stories; 

The Pig Brother. 
Skinner, Ada M. : Stories of Wakeland and Dreamland. 
Verhoeff, Carolyn : All about Johnnie Jones. 
WiGGiN, Kate Douglas, and Smith, Nora A. : The Children's Hour. 



CHAPTER THREE 

The Story Interests of Childhood {Continued) 

B. IMAGINATIVE PERIOD 

WHEN the child leaves the rhythmic, realistic period 
he enters a world of make-believe and no longer 
desires tales and jingles that are nothing more than a 
recounting of facts he already knows. He delights in play- 
ing he is some one other than himself, in pretending he is 
doing things beyond the range of his possibilities, and 
because he craves a larger experience he craves also 
fanciful, imaginative tales in which he may have those 
experiences. He knows that bees sting, that the dog 
has a cold, wet nose, that the cat lands on its feet, and 
the squirrel holds its tail up. He wonders about these 
things, but he is still too limited in experience and in 
mental capacity to give them real theoretical meaning. 
Consequently he enjoys the wonder tale, or, as some 
authorities term it, the "primitive-why story." Early 
racial tales are those of forest and plain, varying accord- 
ing to the locality in which they originated, from the lion 
and tiger stories of India and Central Africa to the 
kangaroo fables of the Australian aborigine. 

Primitive man through fear and fancy personified the 
forces of nature and gave them human attributes, and 
because they were less tangible than the creatures of 
jungle and plain that figured in his earliest fables, his 
mind visioned them as fantastic beings, sometimes 
lovely and sometimes grotesque, fairies and goblins, de- 
structive monsters and demons, and avenging giants who 
preserved him from that which he feared. Thus origi- 

20 



Story Interests in Imaginative Period 21 

nated the fairy story that was the expression of his 
rehgion. The child enjoys these tales. 

The narrator can gather this material with compara- 
tive ease, because the science of ethnology has brought 
to light many of these tales from primitive hterature, 
and not a few of them have been put into collections 
available to child workers. 

The fairy tale that grew out of the life of the race is 
also rich in material for children of this period. By 
"fairy tale" is meant that type of story usually asso- 
ciated with the names of Grimm, Perrault, and Bech- 
stein. Little people delight in it, and will listen to it 
again and again. Yet because of lack of understanding 
on the part of psu-ents and teachers, the fairy story 
often proves to be the rock upon which the child craft 
meets disaster. Because these tales have had a mighty 
place in the history of the race and still have their work 
in the education of the child, it does not follow that they 
should be fed to young listeners as so much unassorted 
grain is fed to chickens. There are many that should 
not be used at all. Those that are used should be care- 
fully graded, because a child will enjoy a narrative in 
which children are heroes, long before he enjoys one in 
which adults hold the center of the stage. The father 
and mother, brothers, sisters, uncles, cousins, and 
aunts mean much to him because they are part of his 
experience. But he does not know officers of the state 
and nation. He does not know lawmakers and magis- 
trates and judges, and tales in which they have a part 
are less interesting to him than those whose characters 
are familiar personages. For instance, he is charmed 
by "Little Red Hen" or "The Tliree Bears" at an age 



22 Educating by Story-Telling 

when "Beauty and the Beast" or "Sleeping Beauty" 
mean httle to him, and a good rule to guide the story- 
teller in the grading of fairy tales is the v/ell-known 
pedagogical one, "Proceed from the known to the un- 
known, from the simple to the complex." Give first 
those stories whose heroes are familiar personages, then 
introduce those with characters not so well known. 

The mention of fairy tales in education often raises 
the question, "Is there not danger of making liars of 
children by feeding them on these stories .^^" It seems 
to me the best answer is given by Georg Ebers, the 
Egyptologist and noveUst, in his fascinating autobiog- 
raphy, The Story of My Life. Out of his own ex- 
perience, he handles the subject of fairy tales sincerely 
and convincingly, and his words are worthy of consid- 
eration by every child worker. 

"When the time for rising came," he says, " I climbed 
joyfully into my mother's warm bed, and never did I 
listen to more beautiful fairy tales than at those hours. 
They became instinct with life to me and have always 
remained so. How real became the distress of perse- 
cuted innocence, the terrors and charm of the forest, the 
joys and splendors of the fairy realm ! If the flowers 
in the garden had raised their voices in song, if the birds 
on the boughs had called and spoken to me, nay, if a 
tree had changed into a beautiful fairy or the toad in 
the damp path of our shaded avenue into a witch, it 
would have been only natural. 

"It is a singular thing that actual events which hap- 
pened in those early days have largely vanished from 
my memory, but the fairy tales I heard and secretly 
experienced became firmly impressed on my mind. 



Story Interests in Imaginative Period 23 

Education and life provided for my familiarity with 
reality in all its harshness and angles, its strains and 
hurts, but who, in those later years, could have flung 
wide the gates of the kingdom where everything is 
beautiful and good, and where ugliness is as surely 
doomed to destruction as evil to punishment P There- 
fore I plead with voice and pen in behalf of fairy tales. 
Therefore I give them to my children and grandchildren 
and have even written a volume of them myself. 

"All sensible mothers will doubtless, like ours, take 
care that the children do not believe the stories which 
they tell them to be true. I do not remember any time 
when, if my mind had been called upon to decide, I 
should have thought anything I invented myself really 
happened ; but I know that we were often unable to 
distinguish whether the plausible tale invented by some 
one else belonged to the realm of fact or fiction. On 
such occasions we appealed to my mother, and her 
answer instantly set all doubts at rest, for we thought 
she could never be mistaken and knew that she always 
told the truth. 

"As to the stories I invented myself, I fared like other 
imaginative children. I could imagine the most mar- 
velous things about every member of the household, 
and while telling them, but only during that time, I 
often fancied they were true. Yet the moment I was 
asked whether these things had actually occurred, it 
seemed that I woke from a dream. I at once separated 
what I imagined from what I actually experienced, and 
it never would have occurred to me to persist against 
my better knowledge. So the vividly awakened 
power of imagination led neither me, my brothers 



24 Educating by Story-Telling 

and sisters, nor my children and grandchildren into 
falsehood." 

Dr. Ebers' words are based on sound psychology. 
The child's imaginative nature should be developed, 
but there should never be any doubt in his mind as to 
what is make-believe and what is real. Let him wander 
at will through every realm of fancy, along its sun-kissed 
highways, among its shadowy glens and wild cascades, 
but let him reahze it is a world of make-believe, not of 
fact, which he inhabits during that period. His imagi- 
nation will be as much aroused, his emotional nature 
will be stirred as deeply, and there will be no discovery 
later that his mother or teacher deceived him, no temp- 
tation to present as fact what he knows to be purely 
fancy, which is a certain step toward the field of false- 
hood. If he questions whether a fairy story is true or 
not, tell him, " No, but once upon a time people thought 
it was true," and picture how the early tribesmen sat 
around the fire at night listening to tales told by some 
of their wise men, just as Indians and Eskimos do to 
this day. It will make him sympathetic toward the 
struggles of his remote forefathers, and he will not 
think the narrator tried to dupe him, nor will he 
regard the narrative itself as a silly yarn. It will be a 
dignified tale to him because it was believed in the long 
ago. 

Since we can give only according to the measure in 
which we possess, whoever tells fairy stories to children 
ought to know something of their history and meaning. 
He should have some understanding of how they have 
come from the depths of the past to their present form, 
some idea of the work of notable collectors, and some 



story Interests in Imaginative Period 25 

insight into the fundamental principles of the science 
of folklore. 

There are several theories about the origin of these 
tales, the first and oldest being that they are sun myths 
and can be traced back to the Vedas, and the exponents 
of this belief offer many arguments to prove the truth of 
their contention. The similarity of tales found among 
people of widely separated regions, they claim, is evi- 
dence that they must have come from a common source. 
"Little Half-Chick," a Spanish folk tale, is found in 
shghtly different dress among the Kabyles of Africa ; 
" Cinderella," in some form or other, is common to every 
country of Europe and to several oriental lands ; while 
the Teutonic tale of "Brier Rose" and the French of 
"Sleeping Beauty" are modifications of the same conte. 
Therefore, the orientalists contend, they must have come 
from a common source and have been modified to suit 
conditions of life in lands to which they were carried. 

Another theory is that all European fairy tales are 
remnants of the old mythology of the north, the nucleus 
of the stories having been carried abroad by the Vikings, 
while still another theory, the most notable advocate 
of which was the late Andrew Lang, traces fairy tales 
to the practices and customs of early man and a totem- 
istic belief in man's descent from animals. 

Then there are those also who contend that fairy tales 
are primitive man's philosophy of nature, his explana- 
tion of the working of forces he did not understand. 
The adherents of this theory admit the similarity of 
tales found among different tribes, but claim that the 
incidents, which are few, and the characters, who are 
types, might occur anywhere. In the French story 



26 Educating by Story-Telling 

of "Blue Beard" and the Greek tale of "Psyche" curi- 
osity leads to destruction — in the one case of life, in 
the other of happiness. In the French " Diamonds and 
Toads," the Teutonic "Snow White and the Seven 
Dwarfs," and the Bohemian "The Twelve Months," 
selfishness brings punishment and kindness reward, 
while the cruel stepmother, the good prince, and the 
fairy godmother are common to tales of every nation. 

But however authorities disagree as to the origin 
of these stories, they unite in declaring them to be one 
of the oldest forms of literature. The first coUection of 
fairy tales of which we have any record was published 
in Venice in i55o by Straparola, and was a translation 
of stories from oriental sources. From Italian the book 
was done into French and, for those early days when 
books were rare and costly, had a wide circulation. For 
almost a century this was the only collection of fairy 
tales in existence. Then, in iGSy, a book was published 
in Naples, // Pentamerone, which Keightley declares is 
the best collection of fairy tales ever written. The 
stories were told in the Neapohtan dialect and were 
drawn from Sicily, Candia, and Italy proper, where 
Giambattista Basile had gathered them from the people 
during years of wandering. 

About sixty years later, in a magazine published at 
The Hague, appeared a story, "La Belle au Bois Dor- 
mant," by Charles Perrault, which was none other than 
the tale we know as "Sleeping Beauty." It did not 
originate with Perrault, but had been told him in child- 
hood by his nurse, who was a peasant from Picardy. 
A year later seven other stories appeared, " Red Riding 
Hood," "Blue Beard," "Puss in Boots," "The Fairy," 



story Interests in Imaginative Period 9,1 

"Cinderella," "Riquet o' the Tuft," and "Hop o' My 
Thumb." They were pubhshed under the title, Contes 
da Temps Passe avec Moralites, and signed, "P. Dar- 
mancour." Darmancour was a stepson of Perrault, 
and wrote them at the older man's request from the 
nurse's tales; so they live in literature as Perrault's 
work. After this French collector came the German 
scholars, the Grimms, who gathered and preserved 
the folklore of the Thuringian peasants ; Goethe, the 
Sage of Weimar ; Madame Villeneuve ; Ruskin ; An- 
drew Lang ; and several others. Each of these added 
to the work begun by Straparola and Basile, until now 
we have tales from almost every nation, tales proving 
that a behef in the supernatural is common to primitive 
people in every clime. 

Another aspect wonderfully interesting in the study of 
fairy tales is the distinctive features of those of different 
regions, which are so marked that they can be classified 
according to the locality and topography of the region 
in which they originated. The largest number of these 
supernatural beliefs is found among nations whose scen- 
ery is wild and rugged, where there are mountains, 
morasses, dangerous cataracts, and tempestuous oceans, 
while in flat, cultivated countries away from the sea the 
fairy superstition is not so strong and the tales are 
less fantastic. This fact argues powerfully in favor of 
the Aryan theory that they are primitive man's philos- 
ophy of nature, the expression of his religion, and some 
educators claim that as they were religious stories to the 
race, they still are religious to the child. 

Whether this theory is accepted or refuted, there can 
be no doubt in the mind of a tliinking person that if 



28 Educating by Story-Telling 

fairy tales are given to children they should be given 
intelligently and with discrimination. The narrator 
should exercise care in their selection, and have some 
fixed principles to govern that selection, because of the 
quantity and doubtful literary and ethical quahty of 
much juvenile material. 

Many modern fairy stories are not fit to give to chil- 
dren. In selecting fanciful tales for this period of 
childhood, choose first of all the old ones, those that 
originated in the childhood of the race, the stories of 
Grimm, Perrault, and Bechstein. They have stood 
the test of the ages. They are expressed in beautiful 
language, they create ideals and arouse inspiration, 
they feed and satisfy. 

There are some fairy tales of later origin that are the 
works of great writers and deserve the name of literature. 
First on this list come those of Hans Christian Andersen. 
"The Three Bears" of Robert Southey is another good 
example, and sometimes we find floating through mag- 
azines and in books of recent issue, fairy tales that are 
excellent ones to give to children, because they have 
aU the elements of the racial tales. Notable among 
these is "The Wonder Box" by Will Bradley. But, 
if there be any doubt in the mind of the narrator 
about the merit of modern stories, he had better elimi- 
nate them from his list and use only those that have 
stood the test of the ages. 

However, even among racial tales the narrator will 
come upon pitfalls unless judgment mark his selec- 
tion. The conditions governing his struggle for exist- 
ence gave primitive man a harsh standard, and conse- 
quently his literature is often tinged with a vindictive 



story Interests in Imaginative Period 29 

spirit wholly out of keeping with the ideals of today. 
Stories in which cruelty, revenge, and bloodshed have 
a large part should never be told to the young child, no 
matter what their age or origin. "Blue Beard" is a 
good example. Although itself a classic, and a recital 
of the deeds of a French ruler whose name is a syno- 
nym of infamy, this tale and all similar tales should 
be tabooed from the world of little people. 

Charles Dickens was the first man in England whose 
voice carried weight to plead for fairy tales as a part 
of the school curriculum, and within a few years Dickens 
found it necessary to oppose the usage of stories that 
were corrupting the children of the British Isles. Be- 
cause they were urged to tell fairy tales, unthinking 
teachers told any that they found, even those in which 
all the savagery of early man was portrayed. Accounts 
of beheadings and man-eatings became part of the 
daily program, and many acts of cruelty among children 
were traceable to these stories. Instead of teaching 
forbearance, courtesy, consideration of the poor and 
aged, and abhorrence of brute force, which the wisely 
chosen fairy tale will do, story-telling was turning the 
children into young savages. If the dominant element 
in a story is cruelty, strike that tale from the list; 
for even though the deed be punished in the end, the 
fact that the attention of an unkind child is focused upon 
cruel acts often leads him to experiment and see what 
will happen. And I plead also for the elimination from 
the story-teller's list of every tale in which an unkind 
or drunken parent plays a part, even though the tale 
itself be a literary gem. The father or mother is the 
child's ideal, and it is not the mission of the narrator 



30 Educating by Story-Telling 

to shatter that ideal. Even if Kttle folk have dis- 
covered that there are delinquent parents in the world, 
it is a mental shock to have that fact emphasized, and 
the story that shocks in any way had better be left un- 
told. 

Sometimes the ehmination or modification of a cruel 
feature of a tale makes it suitable for telling to children, 
as in "Hansel and Gretel." The ending Humperdinck 
uses in his opera, wherein the old witch tm^ns to ginger- 
bread instead of being baked in the oven by the orphans, 
is far better ethically than the original one, yet the ele- 
mental part of the story is left unspoiled. Narrators 
cannot be too careful in this respect ; for the function 
of story-telling is to refine rather than to brutalize, to 
give pleasure and not to shock, and there is no excuse 
for using tales that corrupt or injure in any way when 
there are enough lovely ones to satisfy every normal 
desire of the child. Let the test of selection be the ques- 
tion, Does this story contain an element or picture that 
will shock a sensitive child or whet the cruel tendencies 
of a rough, revengeful one ? If it does, do not use it 
even though the hst of fairy tales may be reduced to 
a very hmited one, but choose the other material for 
this period from the lore of science that will feed the 
fancy and not warp the soul or distort the character. 
(See Part II, Chapter XVI, "Story-Telling to Intensify 
Interest in Nature Study.") 



story Interests in Imaginative Period 31 

Bibliography of Fairy Tales 

Andersen, Hans Christian : Wonder Stories Told to Children. 
AsBJ0RNSEN, Peter Christen : Fairy Tales from the Far North. 
Ballard, Susan : Fairy Tales from Far Japan. 
Blumenthal, Verra X. K. de: Folk Tales from the Russian. 
BuNCE, John Thackeray: Fairy Tales: Their Origin and Meaning. 
Chodzko, Alexander E. B. : Fa try Tales of the Slav Peasants and 

Herdsmen. 
Cuoker, Thomas Crofton : Legends and Fairy Tales uf Ireland. 
Curtin, Jeremiah: Myths and Folk Tales of the Russians, Western 

Slavs, and Magyars. 
Dumas, Alexandre: Black Diamonds; The Golden Fairy Book. 
Edwards, Charles Lincoln : Bahama Songs and Stories. 
FoRTiER, Alcee : Louisiana Folk Tales. 
Graves, Alfred Perceval : The Irish Fairy Book. 
Grimm, Jacob : German Household Tales. 
Haight, Rachel Webb : Index of Fairy Tales. 
Hartland, E. Sidney : The Science of Fairy Tales. 
Jacobs, Joseph: Europa's Fairy Book; English Fairy Tales; Celtic 

Fairy Tales. 
Keightley, Thomas : Fairy Mythology. 
Kennedy, Howard Angus : The New World Fairy Book. 
Laboulaye, Edouard Rene : The Fairy Book; Last Fairy Tales. 
Lang, Andrew: The Blue Fairy Book; The Orange Fairy Book; The 

Lilac Fairy Book; The Green Fairy Book; The Yellow Fairy Book; 

The Red Fairy Book. 
Macdonnell, Anne : The Italian Fairy Book. 
MacManus, Seumas : Donegal Fairy Stories. 
Mitford, Freeman : Tales of Old Japan. 
Ozaki, Yei Theodora : Japanese Fairy Tales. 
Perrault, Charles: Tales for Children from Many Lands. 
Pyle, Howard : TJie Wonder Clock. 
Ramaswami Raju : Indian Fables. 
ScuDDER, Horace E. : The Children's Book. 
Sharman, Lyon : Bamboo : Tales of the Orient-born. 
Skeat, Walter W. : Fables and Folk Tales from an Eastern Forest. 
Stanley, Henry M. : My Dark Companions and Their Strange Stories. 
Steele, Flora A. : Tales from the Punjab. 
Tappan, Eva March : The Golden Goose. 
WiLLiSTON, Teresa : Japanese Fairy Tales. 
Wratislaw, a. H. : Slavonian Fairy Tales. 



CHAPTER FOUR 

The Story Interests of Childhood (Continued) 

C. HEROIC PERIOD 

WHEN the child leaves the imaginative period, he 
enters another realm of realism. The fairy 
world is no longer a place of enchantment to him. He 
is now in a condition corresponding to that of primitive 
man when he was not satisfied to sit by the tribal fire and 
listen to stories about creatures who personified the 
elements, but fared forth on the path of adventure, eager 
to know what lay beyond the lodge place of his people, 
feverish with desire to conquer and remove whatever 
obstructed his way. The barbaric, fighting instinct 
manifests itself, and in many children a destructive 
curiosity is apparent. They long to repeat the experi- 
ences of their ancestors in this same period. They 
want to live through nights of danger and days of dar- 
ing, and since the juvenile court and probation officers 
hover Argus-eyed about them, ready to swoop down 
upon every lad who would go pirating or pathfinding, 
the nearest approach to the experience consists in lis- 
tening to and in reading tales of adventure. This age 
is usually from about eight to twelve, although there 
are no tightly drawn lines of demarcation. Individual 
cases differ, and some children of ten are still dehghted 
by fairy tales, while other lads of seven are well into the 
heroic period. Broadly speaking, however, this period 
begins about the age of eight. 

There is no time in the child life during which the 
story-teller has a finer opportunity of sowing seeds that 

32 



story Interests in Heroic Period 33 

shall come into splendid fruition by and by than in the 
heroic period, and because parents and teachers do 
not reaUze this fact clearly enough, boys read stories 
whose tendency is to brutalize and lead them into 
trouble. It does not follow, because they are drawn 
as steel to steel to such literature, that the boys are de- 
praved. They crave action, danger, daring. It is a 
cry of nature that cannot be silenced, and because the 
hunger is not satisfied in a wholesome way, they go 
where they can find the food they must have, for 
numerous doors are open to them. 

Dozens of writers are doing pernicious work for the 
youth of the country by pouring forth a flood of 
adventure stories, perhaps not with mahcious intent, 
but with the little knowledge that often brings dire 
results.. Knowing the demand for the heroic, they 
write yarns whose only claim to recognition is a clever, 
spectacular plot. These books embody no ideals, and 
the aspirations they arouse had better be left to slum- 
ber. Sometimes, as a result of such reading, boys run 
away from home to fight Indians or turn pirate, and 
many a lad has begun a career of lawlessness ending 
in crime, who with a little direction might have been an 
individual of value to the world. Such cases are so 
common that they have come under the notice of almost 
every child worker, and the pity of it is that literature 
is rich in tales that satisfy the adventure craving, yet 
arouse high ideals and inspire to worth-while deeds. 
Instead of originating in the brain of some modern 
craftsman who is actuated by a desire for money- 
making, they grew out of the life of .the race and 
perpetuate the noblest traditions of the race. 



34 Educating by Story-Telling 

Human nature is much the same in all climes and in 
all ages. Until man reaches a very high state of en- 
lightemnent he is more thrilled by manifestations of 
physical bravery than by mental and moral courage, 
and he who possesses muscular strength is the hero in 
his eyes. A Hercules or Samson is mightier to him than 
a Savonarola facing persecution with sublime tenacity 
of purpose and dying steadfast to his ideal, because 
he can understand the brute strength of the one, while 
the spiritual fortitude of the other is beyond his compre- 
hension. He is thrilled by action, physical action, and 
he craves and will have literature every page of which is 
colored by feats of prowess. 

It is useless to try to substitute something else for 
children in this period. When we hunger for bread 
and meat, after-dinner mints will not satisfy, even 
though they be very delectable confections. This 
ravenous appetite of boys and girls must be satisfied, 
and if they are to grow into well-balanced men and 
women we must feed it with wholesome food instead 
of allowing them to roam unguided and eat of that which 
poisons. 

There is no finer adventure tale in any literature than 
that of Robin Hood, none more satisfying to children 
in the early heroic period. This statement often brings 
a cry of remonstrance, and the objection is made that 
there is danger in portraying an outlaw as a hero, or in 
picturing the allurement of a brigandish career. But 
Robin Hood an outlaw ? He hved in an age of injustice 
when might made right. The man of the people was 
but the chattel of a king, with no rights his lord was 
bound to respect. Bold Robin, in the depths of Slier- 



story Interests in Heroic Period 35 

wood Forest, devoted his life to redressing wrongs. He 
took from the oppressor and gave to the oppressed. 
He strove to stamp out injustice and tyranny, and 
his spirit is the foundation of the democracy that 
underhes every just government today. He was an 
outlaw, not because he was a criminal, but because he 
rebelled against the monstrous injustice of his age and 
strove to ameliorate the condition of the poor and 
downtrodden. In the time of Henry the Second he 
was hunted like a deer, but in the twentieth century he 
would be honored as a great reformer. 

Robin's sense of justice appeals to boys and girls, 
and his fearlessness and kindliness awaken their admira- 
tion. They respond sympathetically to the story from 
the opening chapter, when he enters the forest and 
Little John joins his band, through the closing one where 
the hero of the greenwood goes to his jQnal rest. If 
the tale is told with emphasis upon the true spirit of 
Robin Hood instead of with a haLf apology, it will prove 
wholesome food for the children and will help to make 
them juster, kinder, and more democratic men and 
women. 

The national epics are splendid sources of story mate- 
rial for children in the heroic period, especially those 
originating in Teutonic lands and those formalized 
among nations not yet in a high state of civilisation. 
Their characters are elemental, and their incidents 
appeal to boys and girls. Some of the stories of King 
Arthur and his knights, of Reowulf, of Sigurd the 
Volsung, of Frithjof. of PwyU, hero of the Welsh 
Mabinogion, as well as many from the Nibelungenlied, 
the Iliad, and the Odyssey, can also be used with ex- 



36 Educating by Story-Telling 

cellent results. Naturally the tales of an elemental type 
should be chosen first rather than those that are more 
highly refined and poetic. It has been my experience 
that the Mabinogion is enjoyed before the Arthuriad. 
Boys, especially, delight in hearing of Pwyll, lord of the 
Seven Countries of Dyved, and the adventures that 
befell him as he hunted in the forests of his dominions. 
These stories are of very ancient origin and are simple, 
strong, and dramatic. They were sung by harpers 
(mabinogs) in the castle halls of Wales, and finally were 
gathered into the Mabinogion, which was done into 
English by Lady Charlotte Gest. The story-teller 
will find The Boys Mabinogion, by Sidney Lanier, an 
excellent handbook for tliis period, as it embodies the 
most desirable of this ancient Gaehc material, and is 
put into modern form by an artist. 

Follow the Mabinogion with the less poetic of the 
King Arthur stories. The account of how Arthur 
won his sword and became king, of Percival and the Red 
Knight, and of Arthur fighting the giant mean more to 
the ten-year-old than does Sir Galahad and the Holy 
Grail. The Greek myths too should be drawn from 
during this period — not the highly poetic, finished 
tales of the Hellenes, but the elemental ones whose 
heroes are rugged characters that awaken child admira- 
tion. Hercules, Perseus, Achilles, and several other 
demigods vie for honors with King Arthur and Beowulf 
in the mind of the fourth-grade boy, and the story- 
teller should not fail to draw from the rich field of 
southern literature as well as from that of the north. 
But let her exercise care in selection and keep to the 
realm of heroism instead of entering that of romance. 



story Interests in Heroic Period 37 

Such stories as "Cupid and Psyche," " Pygmahon and 
Galatea," and " Apollo and Daphne " mean little to 
boys and girls of ten, yet teachers and librarians often 
use them and wonder why their audiences respond 
with so little enthusiasm. There are those who con- 
tend that all the epical stories should be given in 
simplified form during this period, but why spoil the 
romantic, poetic ones which are so much more enjoyed 
a little later and. so much better understood, when 
there are hundreds that can be given without pruning 
them to the heart ? Certain investigations and statis- 
tics show that the telling of the higlily refined Greek 
myths to boys and girls in the early heroic period gives 
an erroneous idea of Greek standards, and dulls an in- 
terest in mythology later on. The story-teller should 
bear this fact in mind, and remember that literature 
rich in symbohsm and formulated among people refined 
to a degree of sestheticism is not the hterature to give 
to adventure-craving children, no matter to what simple 
language it may be reduced. 

Splendidly dramatic is the tale of Roland and Oliver, 
which every boy loves, of Ogier the Dane, and of some 
of the other heroes of the time of Charlemagne. Chil- 
dren listen spellbound to the account of the first meeting 
and disagreement of the two lads whose friendship 
makes such a sweet and colorful story, and of Charles 
the Great in council with his peers and knights, and 
delight in the swinging fines of the old ballad : 

The emperor sits in an orchard wide, 
Roland and Oliver by his side : 
With them many a gallant lance, 
Full fifteen thousand of gentle France. 



38 Educating by Story-Telling 

Upon a throne of beaten gold 
The lord of ample France behold : 
White his hair and beard were seen, 
Fair of body and proud of mien. 

The story of Bayard is an admirable one for this 
period, as well as that of the Spanish hero, the Cid ; 
and " St. George and the Dragon " is always a favorite. 

I plead, too, that more of the narrator's time be de- 
voted to the telling of our own American epic of Hia- 
watha. The answer comes, "That is read in school." 
To be sm'e it is, and one reason why it is read so badly 
and appreciated so little is that it was not given in story 
form first. The German child uses the Nibelungenlied 
as a classroom text, but before he studies the epic he 
knows its tales. Gunther, Hagen, Siegfried, and 
Dankwart are familiar characters to him, and conse- 
quently he enjoys the poem. 

The same principle applies to Hiawatha. If boys and 
girls are acquainted with Hiawatha himself, if they 
know Nokomis and Chibiabos and Kwasind and lagoo 
before they are given the poem to study, it means some- 
thing to them that it cannot mean otherwise. Perhaps 
one reason why Longfellow's masterpiece has been so 
little used by story-tellers is that the work of putting 
it into story form is a task with which the non-profes- 
sional is unable to cope. Now, however, an excellent 
retold work is on the market — Winston's Story of 
Hiawatha — which makes it possible for every narrator 
to have her children know the American epic as well as 
German young people know the Nibelungenlied. 

In considering stories for the heroic period of child- 
hood, let us not forget the biographical and historical 



Story Interests in Heroic Period 39 

narratives that fulfill every requirement of hero tales. 
Boys and girls love the epical stories because they ar.e 
true in spirit, but they love also those that are true in 
fact. It is a mistake to think that biography is dull and 
uninteresting to them, because stories of the boyhood 
of great men, great rulers, great discoverers and path- 
finders, great lawgivers, painters, musicians, and writers, 
are hero tales of the highest type. Many of them have 
been told admirably for young people, and the narrator 
does no more valuable work than when he uses them 
freely. Sir Walter Raleigh, De Soto, Coronado, Fred- 
erick the Great, Napoleon, Garibaldi, Solyman the 
Magnificent, Robert the Bruce, Kosciusko, William 
Wallace, William Tell, and dozens of others are as 
fascinating as Beowulf or Hercules and have an influ- 
ence even more powerful, because children know that 
these heroes have actually lived. Never mind what 
some authorities say about the man of Switzerland be- 
ing a mythical personage. Let American young people 
know him as those of the Alpine land know him, as the 
defender of his ancient rights and native mountains, 
the embodiment of the spirit of Helvetia. They will 
be finer men and women because of it, and that, more 
than anything else, concerns the story-teller. 

Then, too, there are history tales, hundreds of them, 
from every age and every land. There are brave deeds 
done by children that every child should know. The 
little girl on the St. Lawrence, holding the blockhouse 
of Vercheres against the Iroquois, the boy whose cour- 
age and presence of mind saved Lucerne, the event 
through which William of Orange came to be known as 
William the Silent, and many other similar narratives 



40 Educating by Story-Telling 

are intensely interesting to boys and girls. Some of 
the Old Testament tales belong in this period ; for a 
detailed account of them see Chapter Twelve, on " Bible 
Stories." 

At this age, when the adventm^e spirit runs high, 
when patlifinding and Indian fighting are desired above 
all other things, how are we to keep boys and girls from 
running away to lead such lives themselves.^ One 
way is by letting them live the lives of the heroes who 
thrill them — in other words, by dramatizing. It is 
the hunger for experience that causes boys to turn vaga- 
bond, and juvenile-court records show that many of the 
ten- and twelve-year-olds who are lured by the call of 
adventure come from homes that offer nothing to feed 
the adventure craving, whereas those who have some of 
the desired experiences at home are less likely to start 
out seeking them. It is a wise mother who encourages 
her boys to make pirate caves in their own back yards, 
to be youthful Crusoes, Kit Carsons, Daniel Boones, 
and Robin Hoods for a Saturday morning, and the 
school or public playground that provides for much out- 
of-door acting is doing something that will prevent 
many evils. In some children this desire is so strong 
that it is almost a fever, and if not satisfied in a whole- 
some manner is likely to lead to lamentable ends. I 
remember how much it meant to me in my own child- 
hood, when I burned to lead the lives of some of the 
heroes of whom I had read or heard, to be permitted to 
participate in the Indian warfare of the neighborhood 
boys and be the maiden who was carried away into 
captivity. It was such a blissful experience that I joy- 
fully contributed my small allowance to buy red ink 



story Interests in Heroic Period 41 

for war paint and to help costume the braves, and when 
a Sioux band came to town, I ecstatically trudged after 
the wagon and lived for a day in a realm far removed 
from my accustomed one. The boys had feeling to 
even a greater degree, and who knows but that without 
this Indian play some of them might have gone forth in 
search of adventure and become criminals, whereas 
every one is now a law-abiding, useful citizen. 

Sources of Story Material for the Heroic Period 

Anderson, Rasmus Bjorn : The Younger Edda. 

Baldwin, James : The Story of Roland; American Book of Golden Deeds. 

Bolton, Sarah K. : Poor Boys Who Became Famous. 

Bradish, Sarah P. : Old Norse Stories. 

Brooks, Elbridge S. : Historic Girls. 

Church, Alfred J.: Stories from the Iliad; Stories from the Odyssey. 

CoE, Fannie E. : Heroes of Everyday Life. 

Farmer, "Florence V. : Boy and Girl Heroes. 

FoA, Madame Eugenie : Boy Life of Napoleon. 

Grierson, E. W. : Tales from Scottish Ballads. 

KiNGSLEY, Charles : Greek Heroes. 

Lang, Jeanie : The Story of Robert the Bruce; The Story of General 
Gordon. 

Lanier, Sidney : The Boy's Mabinogion. 

Lansing, M. F. : Page, Esquire, and Knight. 

Mabie, II. W. : Norse Stories from the Eddas. 

Marshall, H. E. : The Story of William Tell; The Story of Roland. 

Matthews, Agnes R. : Seven Champions of Christendom (St. George 
and the Dragon). 

Morris, William : Sigurd the Volsung. 

Nepos, C. : Tales of Great Generals. 

Niebuhr, B. G. : Greek Heroes. 

Pyle, Howard : Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood; Stories of King 
Arthur and His Knights. 

Ragozin, Z. a. : Siegfried and Beowulf. 

Tappan, Eva M. : In the Days of Alfred the Great; In the Days of Wil- 
liam the Conqueror. 

Warren, Maude Radford : Robin Hood and His Merry Men. 



CHAPTER FIVE 

The Story Interests of Childhood {Continued) 

D. ROMANTIC PERIOD 

AT about the age of twelve or thirteen the child's 
rougher instincts begin to soften. Romance and 
sentiment develop. He becomes particular about 
his appearance. It is less of a task than formerly to 
get the boy to wash his face and hands, and he has 
not the antipathy toward civilized attire that he had 
in the days when Robinson Crusoe was the hero. 
Instead, he manifests a liking for being dressed accord- 
ing to prevailing modes, sometimes changing so sud- 
denly from a dirty cave dweUer into a dandy that it 
is like the metamorphosis from grub to butterfly. He 
craves socks and ties of bright colors and clothes that 
attract attention. If fashion prescribes peg-topped 
or straight, spare trousers, he wants them extremely 
wide or extremely narrow, and is willing to have his 
chin sawed unmercifully if high collars are the vogue, 
not because of a fit of hysteria, but because he has 
entered the period when sex awakens. He is becom- 
ing interested in the girls and wishes to be dressed in 
a manner that will cause them to be interested in him ; 
and very often his taste for literature changes as com- 
pletely as his personal habits. He desires stories of 
a higher type of heroism than those he craved in an 
earlier period, stories of romance and chivalry, and 
now is the time to give him the epic in its entirety, 
because of the deep racial emotions therein expressed. 
He has had many of the adventure tales from the 
epics during the earher period. Now he is ready for 

42 



story Interests in Romantic Period 43 

those tinged with romance, those pervaded by a spirit 
of fiery ideahsm in which knights risk hmb and hfe 
in loyalty to principle, for fealty to king, or in defense 
of some fair lady. Percival seeking the Grail is a finer 
hero to him than Percival battling with the Red Knight, 
and the vow of the men of the Round Table means 
something because he can understand it. In a vague, 
indefinite way romance is touching his own life, and 
his noblest emotions are awakened by the noble words : 

To reverence the king, as if he were 

Their conscience, and their conscience as their king, 

To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, 

To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, 

To speak no slander, no, nor listen to it. 

To honor his own word as if his God's, 

To lead sweet fives in purest chastity, 

To love one maiden only, cleave to her, 

And worship her by years of noble deeds. 

Roys and girls in the heroic period enjoyed only 
the Arthurian stories that glorify physical bravery, 
those of jousting and conflict into which women do 
not enter. Rut now they delight in such tales as those 
of Geraint and Enid, of Launcelot and Elaine, and 
some of the adventures of Tristram. 

Here a word of caution is necessary. Like the Old 
Testament stories, these romantic tales wiU arouse 
the noblest emotions and highest ideals if given with 
wisdom, but if told thoughtlessly may create an almost 
morbid desire for the vulgar. Therefore the non-pro- 
fessional narrator should use for his work some retold 
version of the King Arthur tales instead of adapting 
from Le Morte (T Arthur, because there is much in the 



44 Educating by Story-Telling 

original that should be eliminated in presenting it to 
those in the adolescent period. The Pyle or Radford 
editions are excellent, likewise The Boy's King Arthur, 
by Sidney Lanier, each of which keeps the spirit of 
the poem, but omits everything objectionable. 

The story of King Arthur, embracing as it does the 
Grail legend, should be followed by the German tale 
of " Parsifal," — not the Wagner opera version, but 
the original medieval legend, "The Knightly Song of 
Songs" of Wolfram von Eschenbach. This has been 
retold beautifully by Anna Alice Chapin in The Story 
of Parsifal, a book with which every child in the ro- 
mantic period should be familiar. Miss Guerber, in 
her Legends of the Middle Ages, relates the tale of 
Titurel and the Holy Grail, which will be helpful to 
the narrator because of the light it throws on the origin 
of the legend. But for a telling version there is none 
equal to that of Miss Chapin, none in which the lofty 
chivalric spirit of the medieval poem is portrayed so 
faithfully. 

The romantic portion of all the national epics, as 
well as that of Le Morte d' Arthur, is excellent material 
for the story-teller in the early adolescent period. 
The Nibelungenlied, the Iliad, the Odyssey, and parts 
of Jerusalem Delivered feed boys and girls in the early 
teens as pure adventure stories fed them a year or two 
before. And if the narrator would have his young 
listeners enjoy the epical tales to the uttermost, let 
him quote freely from the epic itself as he tells them. 
During this age, when romance and sentiment run 
high and life is beheld through a rainbow-hued glamour, 
poetry is a serious and beautiful tiling. The frequent 



story Interests in Romantic Period 45 

interpolation of it into a story heightens the pleasure 
in that story, and young people hsten with the gleam- 
ing eyes of intense feehng to words hke these of Sieg- 
fried : 

"Ever," said he, "your brethren I'll serve as best I may, 
Nor once while I have being, wiU head on pillow lay. 
Till I have done to please them whate'er they bid me do ; 
And this, my Lady Kriemhild, is all for love of you." 

Moreover, young people should understand that 
the epics were first given to the race in poetic form, and 
in leading them to that knowledge we can lead them 
also to an appreciation of the majestic, sweeping meas- 
ures of the Ihad or Odyssey or Nibelungenhed, which 
is in itself worth thought and labor on the part of the 
story-teller. 

The Langobardian myths, Dietrich von Bern, the 
story of Gudrun, of Charlemagne and Frastrada and 
Huon of Bordeaux, are intensely interesting in this 
period. Joan of Arc never fails to charm, while tales 
of the minnesingers, the troubadours, and the Cru- 
saders open gates into lands of enchantment. 

Oh, the romance in the hves of these medieval wan- 
derers ! Walther von der Vogelweide, too poor to 
buy him a coat, yet swaying the thought of the Ger- 
man lands ; Bernard of Ventadour, among the flaming 
roses of Provence, making music at the court of Eleanor 
of Aquitaine; Richard Coeur de Lion, riding with a 
singing heart toward Palestine ; De Coucy, Frederick 
Barbarossa, and scores of others who Mved and achieved 
in that distant, colorful time ! Theh lives are gleam- 
ing pages in the history of their age, and their stories 



46 Educating by Story-Telling 

are glorious ones to give to boys and girls who crave 
the romantic. 

Wonderful, too, is the account of the Children's 
Crusade, of Stephen, a happy shepherd on the hills 
of Cloyes, and that other lad of Cologne, who, fired 
with desire to restore to the Christian world places 
the Moslem had defiled, sailed away with their followers 
to shipwreck and slavery. In connection with this 
tale the children should hear, if possible, some of the 
music from Gabriel Pierne's great cantata, The Chil- 
dren s Crusade. It will give them a clearer, more vivid 
idea of the preaching of the boy apostle, of the gather- 
ing of the company, of the pilgrimage along the Rhine 
and Seine, of their rejoicing upon reaching the port of 
Marseilles, and of the light of noble purpose that 
glorified their eyes as they went singing to the ships. 
Perhaps historians have proved the account of this 
crusade to be just a myth. Tell it anyway, for whether 
it be fact or fiction the tale is too lovely for young folk 
to miss. 

There is another type of biographical story, that of 
the man and woman of moral courage whose hfe was 
not so chromatically picturesque as that of him who 
fought the Saracens or sang in old Provence, but never- 
theless thrills, fascinates, and influences. Florence 
Nightingale is a good example. Beautiful, the daughter 
of rich and distinguished parents, she might have 
reigned a social queen in England ; yet she spent her 
young womanhood studying how to alleviate human 
suffering, toiling under the burning sun of the East, 
battling with disease at the risk of health and life, and 
well deserving the title given her by those she com- 



story Interests in Romantic Period 47 

forted, "The Angel of the Crimea." I have seen girls 
of sixteen listen with tears in their eyes to the story 
of this noble Englishwoman, and have watched the 
throats of boys throb and pulsate upon hearing the 
account of the British Army and Navy banquet at 
which the question was asked, "Who, of all the workers 
in the Crimea, will be remembered longest?" and every 
voice replied in refrain, "Florence Nightingale!" 
Several years ago a questionnaire, distributed at a 
convention of nurses, revealed the fact that ten per 
cent of those there had been influenced toward their 
life career by the story of this great English nurse. 
Yet there are dubious souls who wonder if story-telling 
pays ! If the narrator can have only a few books 
from which to draw material for the romantic period, 
Laura E. flichards' Life of Florence Nightingale ought 
to be one of the number. It is sympathetically and 
beautifully told, an artist's tribute to an immortal 
woman. 

Workers with youths in the adolescent period are 
brought face to face with one of the gravest problems 
educators have to solve. WTiat is to be done about 
lovesick boys and girls, those in whom the elemental 
passions have awakened yet who have not the judgment 
and self-control that age and experience bring .'^ How 
are we to keep them, in their first emotional upheaval, 
from losing aU sense of proportion and from pursuing 
a course that may lead to disaster ? The freedom given 
in these days of coeducation, and the unrestricted cir- 
culation of novels and stories deeiling with the rela- 
tions of the sexes, which may be worthy creations from 
the standpoint of art, but wliich distort the ideas of 



48 Educating by Story-Telling 

unformed youth, make possible a condition that often 
appalls parents and high-school teachers and sets 
them to wondering how to meet it. 

Ellen Key suggests a remedy. In this period when 
the world-old emotions are first aroused, she advocates 
the use of love stories that are pure in tone and high 
in ideal. We cannot change human nature and keep 
the boy of sixteen from being drawn as if by a magnet 
to the maid who is lovely in his eyes, but we can give 
him an ideal that will make his feeling an elevating 
thing instead of a debasing one. We can put into the 
heart of the girl a poetry and ideahsm that wiU keep 
her worthy of the prince, and we can do it tlirough 
hterature. Instead of leaving her free to roam un- 
guided and read whatever falls into her hand, or of 
sitting Hke a board of censors beside her and goading 
her toward the forbidden, which always aUures, we 
can lead her to dehghtful, wholesome stories, of which 
there are a goodly number. This does not mean con- 
fining her to writers of several generations ago. Pres- 
ent-day youths know that almost every one reads 
current books, and they intend to have them, too. 
Therefore let the story-teller use the best of the new, 
even as he uses the best of the old. Let him refer 
frequently to it and tell enough of it to awaken such 
an interest that it will be read. A good plan is for 
the teacher of English to devote a few minutes each 
week to the discussion of some recent book or books, 
and to give fists of those that boys and girls will enjoy. 
In pubUc libraries slips should be posted, upon which 
are named the most desirable of recent publications, 
and problem novels should be excluded from shelves 



story Interests in Romantic Period 49 

to which the pubhc has access. Thus our adolescent 
children may be led to glean from the best of the new. 
But meanwhile let us not neglect the old. 

One of the lovely works with which to famiharize 
high-school pupils is Ekkehard, by Joseph Victor von 
Scheffel, which, aside from its value as a historical 
novel, is one of the noblest love stories ever written. 
It is a charming picture of life in the tenth century, 
when the Hunnic hordes swept hke a devastating 
flame into the peaceful Bodensee region. Hadwig, 
proud duchess of Suabia, Ekkehard, the dreaming, 
handsome monk who goes from the monastery of St. 
Gall to become Latin instructor at Castle Hohentwiel 
and learns far more than he teaches, Praxedis, the 
winsome Greek maid, Hadumoth the goose girl, and 
the goat boy Audifax, all are fascinating, appealing 
characters. From beginning to end the book is 
intensely interesting, and as Nathan Haskell Dole 
says, "full of undying beauty." 

Another charming work of a German writer is Moni 
the Goat Boy, by Johanna Spyri. The novels of Eugenie 
Marlitt are wholesome and well written, and give vivid 
pictures of life in the smaller courts of Europe. Those 
of Louisa Miililbach portray in a remarkable manner 
the lives of some of the notable figures of history, and 
the intimate glimpses they give of such characters as 
Frederick the Great, Schiller, Goethe, Marie Antoinette, 
and Maria Theresa, with their reflection of the color 
and ceremony of a bygone day, cause them to mean 
in this period what adventure tales mean to boys and 
girls of ten. 

In drawing from Germany, let us not forget Georg 



50 Educating by Story-Telling 

Ebers, who lifts the cloud of mystery that veils old 
Egypt and permits us to share the romance, the loves, 
the joys and sorrows of men and women of the Pha- 
raohs' time. His works are not dull inscriptions gath- 
ered from sepulchers and mummies, but moving pic- 
tures of living, breathing men and women, filmed 
by the genius of a master; and the triumphs of the 
Princess Bent-Anat, the sufferings of the captive 
Uarda, and the spectacular victory of the royal chari- 
oteer are so real that they seem to be in the here and 
now instead of in the early morning of the world. 

From France we may glean without limit. Georges 
Ohnet, Jacques Vincent, Ludovic Halevy, and dozens 
of other writers have produced works that are not only 
a part of the education of every one who aspires to 
become a cultured man or woman, but are as fascinat- 
ing as fairy tales to a child. Then there is the great 
treasure house of English and American literature, 
as rich in priceless things of pen and brain as the gallery 
of the Vatican is rich in paintings and sculpture. Boys 
and girls will not draw from this weedth unguided, 
because they do not know where it is stored. But 
if we give them frequent glimpses of its brightness, if 
we half open the door of the repository and let them 
peep inside, they will follow, seeking it, as the miner 
follows the half-revealed ore vein, or as Ortnit of old 
pursued the Fata Morgana. They need not drift 
into pools that breed disease, when by enough story- 
telling to awaken their interest in the beautiful and 
fine they may sail into open streams where the water 
is clear, and where there are no submerged reefs to 
wreck their fragile crafts. 



story Interests in Romantic Period 51 

Sources of Story Material for the RoMAi>rnc 
Period 

Antin, Mary : The Promised Land. 

Bolton, Sarah K. : Famous Leaders among Men. 

BouTET DE MoNVEL, L. M. : The Story of Joan of Arc. 

Brooks, Elbridge Streeter : Historic Girls. 

BuELL, Augustus C. : John Paul Jones, Founder of the American 

Navy. 
Buxton, Ethel M. Wilmot: A Book of Noble Women; Stories of 

Persian Heroes. 
Chapin, Anna Alice : The Story of Parsival. 
Church, Alfred James: Stories from the Iliad; Stories from the 

Odyssey. 
Creighton, Louise von Glehn : .Some Famous Women. 
Gilbert, Ariadne : More than Conquerors. 
Gilchrist, Beth Bradford : Life of Mary Lyon. 
Guerber, Helene a. : Legends of the Middle Ages. 
Lanier, Sidney : The Boy's King Arthur. 
Lockhart, John Gibson : Ancient Spanish Ballads. 
Lowell,- Francis Cabot: Joan of Arc. 
Nicholson, J. S. : Tales from Ariosto. 

Quiller-Couch, Sir Arthur Thomas : The Roll Call of Honor. 
Richards, Laura E. : Florence Nightingale, the Angel of the Crimea. 
Snedeker, Caroline D. : The Coward of Thermopylae. 
SouTHEY, Robert : The Life of Nelson. 
Sterling, Mary Blackwell: The Story of Parziml; The Story of 

Sir Galnhad. 
Strickland, Agnes : The Queens of England; The Queens of Scotland. 



CHAPTER SIX 
Building the Story 

STORY-TELLING is a creative art, and there- 
fore a knowledge of underlying principles is as 
indispensable to the narrator as to the sculptor or 
painter. Without this knowledge he cannot hope to 
adapt material to his needs, but must be limited in 
his choice to what is already in form to give to children ; 
with it he can avail himself of many opportunities 
to bring to his charges treasures of which they could 
know nothing but for his ability to dig them from the 
profound tomes in which they are hidden, polish and 
clarify them, and put them in a setting within the un- 
derstanding of the child. For this reason a course in 
story-writing is a part of the training of the professional 
story-teller, and while the mother or teacher cannot 
make such extensive preparation, she may to advantage 
master and apply a few cardinal principles of con- 
struction. 

The beginning of the oral story should never be an 
introduction, because from the first word the child 
expects something to happen, and if nothing does 
happen his attention scatters and interest is lost. 
Therefore the narrator must bring his actors on the 
stage and get them to work at once ; he must not let 
them stand around waiting while he gives a detailed 
description of their hair and eyes and of the clothes 
they wear, but must have them do something. It is 
often necessary to make some explanatory remarks 
in the beginning, but it should be done in such a way 
that the hearer has no time to wonder when the story 

52 



Building the Story 53 

is going to begin. For instance, if your tale is about 
a boy in Holland, do not delay bringing the boy in 
while you tell about the country. Let him enter at 
the beginning, and then, by a sentence here and a 
clause or phrase there, give the setting with the action. 
The story must bristle with human interest ; for while 
the child knows nothing about the meaning of that 
term, he nevertheless demands that something happen, 
and if nothing does happen you lose his attention. The 
written story may depend for its charm upon character 
drawing and local color, but the oral story demands 
plot, and if this plot is badly hung together the story 
fails in its aim, for it does not make a deep impression. 

The narrative style is better adapted to beginning 
the oral story than dialogue, because it is more easily 
handled by the novice. Of course the professional 
story-teller is not restricted to one field, and genius 
is privileged to range at large and ignore rules with no 
dire results. But it is safe for the amateur to keep 
to the narrative style. In the depths of dialogue, his 
little craft may founder, but the much-loved words 
"Once upon a time" or "Long, long ago" arrest the 
attention immediately, even though the teller be not 
an artist; and having made a good beginning, he is 
reasonably sure of holding his hearers to the end. 
On the other hand, if he does not get them at the start, 
his story-telling time is apt to end in failure. 

There are no set phrases or clauses with which one 
must begin a story, and it would be a mistake to say 
that dialogue can never be used safely in opening 
the oral story, for the professional often uses it with 
fine effect; but it is easier and safer for the amateur 



54 Educating by Story-Telling 

to use the narrative beginning, and introduce dialogue 
as the plot develops. 

Dr. Berg Esenwein, whose excellent work, Writing 
the Short Story, will be of value to the story-teller as 
well as to the story-writer, lays down these rules : 

"Do not strike one note in the beginning and another 
in the body of the story. 

"Do not touch anything that is not a live wire lead- 
ing direct to the heart of the story. 

"Do not describe where you can suggest." 

An examination of some of the perfect stories of the 
world shows that these rules hold good in every case. 
The tales of Grimm, Andersen, Perrault, and Bechstein 
are flawless in construction, and each plunges directly 
into the thread of the story. Take, for instance, "The 
Three Tasks " of Grimm : 

There once lived a poor maiden who was young and fair, 
but she had lost her own mother, and her stepmother did 
all she could to make her miserable. 

"The Pea Blossom," of Hans Christian Andersen: 

There were once five peas in a pod. They were green and 
the pod was green, and they thought all the world was green. 

"Red Riding Hood," as written by Perrault, begins 
thus: 

Once upon a time there lived in a small village in the coun- 
try a little girl, the prettiest, sweetest creature that ever was 
seen. Her mother loved her fondly, and her grandmother 
doted on her still more. 

"The Twin Brothers" by Grimm : 

There were once two brothers, one of whom was rich and 
the other poor. The rich brother was a goldsmith and had 



Building the Story 55 

a wicked heart. The poor brother supported himself by 
making brooms, and was good and honest. 

It is the same in Ruskin's "King of the Golden 
River," in Robert Southey's "Three Bears," in all the 
tales of De Maupassant that are suitable for telling, 
and in those of Alphonse Daudet. Note the begin- 
ning of Daudet's "Last Lesson" : 

Little Franz did not want to go to school that morning. 
He would much rather have played. The air was so warm 
and still. You could hear the blackbirds singing at the edge 
of the wood, and the sound of the Prussians drilling down by 
the old sawmill. 

Every one of these stories begins with narrative, 
and every one is a perfect tale for telling. 

Next in consideration comes the body of the story, 
which our rhetoric teachers taught us is a succession 
of events moving toward the climax. Until the climax 
is reached the oral story must be full of suspense. In 
other words, the hearer must be kept guessing about 
what is going to happen. The child does not care 
about a story in which he sees the end. He does enjoy 
hearing the same story told over and over again if it 
thrilled him at the first telling, because he likes to re- 
experience that thrill. But if a new tale holds no sus- 
pense, it falls flat. Stevenson says: "The one rule is 
to be infinitely various — to interest, to disappoint, to 
surprise, yet still to gratify. To be ever changing, as 
it were, the stitch, yet still to give the effect of an in- 
genious neatness." In other words, the succession of 
events must follow one another in a regular sequence, and 
each must contribute something to the one following it. 



56 Educating by Story-Telling 

As a rather homely illustration of the meaning of 
this, we may say that plot centers around a hole, and 
in a well-constructed story the steps by which the hero 
gets into the hole are traced, and then those by which 
he gets out. The getting out is the climax or, as Dr. 
Barrett says, "the apex of interest and emotion." 
In other words, it is the top of a ladder, and the story 
must move in an unbroken line toward that topmost 
rung. If it does not do this, if the thread of the tale 
is broken to interpolate something that should have been 
told in the beginning, the naurator loses his audience. 

The climax must be a surprise to the child. This 
holds good in all the great oral stories. Take as an 
example "The Ugly Duckling" : 

And he flew toward the beautiful swans. As soon as they 
saw him they ran to meet him with outstretched wings. 

"Kill me," he said. 

But as he bent his head he saw reflected in the water, not 
a dark, gray bird ugly to see, but a beautiful swan. 

In Hawthorne's "Great Stone Face" the climax lies 
in the discovery that Ernest is the likeness of the Great 
Stone Face, a delightful surprise to the child. 

It is the same in "Red Riding Hood," in "Tarpeia," 
in "Why the Sea Is Salt." It is the same in Daudet's 
"Last Lesson." Note the splendid climax of that 
masterpiece, the surprise that comes to Franz as he 
sits awaiting punishment, when the teacher, in all 
kindness, makes this announcement : 

"My children, this is the last time I shall ever teach you. 
The order has come from Berlin that henceforth nothing but 
German shall be taught in the schools of Alsace and Lor- 
raine. This is your last lesson in French." 



Building the Story 51 

With very young children the surprise element should 
be simple. Repetition used in a sequence, or jingle, 
accomplishes it well, as in the "Fee, fi, faugh, fum" 
in "Jack and the Beanstalk," or "Who's been sitting 
in my chair?" in "The Three Bears," or "The better 
to see you, hear you, eat you" in "Red Riding Hood." 
Each time the child hears the expression his interest is 
roused to a higher pitch, and his imagination is fired to 
such a point that he expects almost anything to happen. 

After the climax is reached, the oral story should 
descend rapidly to a close. Many of the best oral 
stories end in the climax, and those that do not, add but 
a sentence or two or a paragraph at most to round out 
to completion. But they do not morahze and point 
out a lesson to the child. They leave him to see the 
moral for himself, and he sees it more clearly and is 
the more deeply impressed by it if he is allowed a few 
moments of silence after the completion of the story, 
instead of being drawn into conversation concerning 
it. Marie Shedlock, the English story-teller who has 
done so much to put the narrator's art upon the plane 
where it deserves to be, advocates five minutes of 
silence after each story period, and in my own experi- 
ence I have found that it is of value to the child. 
Conditions under which one works will, of course, 
govern this ; but above all, do not end a story that 
delights a boy or girl and then kill the whole effect by 
saying, "Now, Peter, what does that story teach you.^^" 
Give the child credit for being an intelligent human 
being, and do not spoil a tale for him by turning it 
into a sermon while he is still tingling with the wonder 
and joy of it. 



CHAPTER SEVEN 
Telling the Story 

SINCE story-telling, like music, is an art, it is no 
more possible for every mother, teacher, or hbra- 
rian to become a Scheherazade than it is possible for 
every child who takes music lessons to blossom into a 
Mozart or a Mendelssohn. The inspiration, the 
creative fire that beguiles the wrath of a sultan or 
gives birth to a symphony, emanates from within, 
from the fairy germs planted somewhere in the soul 
and nurtured into fruition through unceasing effort. 
Yet it is possible for every worker with cliildren, pro- 
vided he be wiUing to devote some time and labor to 
the study of technique, to learn to tell stories convinc- 
ingly and entertainingly, although not with the artistry 
of the professional. 

First of all, whenever possible, he should choose 
stories that appeal to him, those he will enjoy giving 
his listeners because they fit his own moods, for he can- 
not hope to tell every variety of tale with consummate 
excellence any more than an actor can be supreme 
in all types of roles. The genius of Sothern displays 
itself to best advantage in the tragedies of Shakespeare, 
while that of Henry Miller, Forbes-Piobertson, or 
David Warfield is suited to dramas of another kind. 
Each of these artists tried various roles until he found 
his forte. Then he kept to the field in which he could 
excel, concentrating all his effort upon it. So it should 
be with the story-teller. He shoyld experiment with 
every kind of narrative, then make a specialty of the 
one in which he can be at his best, and use it to ac- 

58 



Telling the Slory 59 

complish his most far-reaching results. Of course 
the mother or teacher cannot confine herself to one 
variety of story. Her interests being varied and many, 
she cannot hope to reach the height of speciahzation 
attained by the artist who has but one purpose, one 
aim, and never swerves from it. She must endeavor 
to acquire a fair degree of proficiency in the rendition 
of every type of story, that she may not be found want- 
ing by her youthful auditors ; but she should specialize 
with the kind of tale that is nearest an expression of 
her own moods, because in this way she can obtain 
the most gratifying results. 

Perhaps she is particularly skilled in presenting 
humorous material. Then let her use that ability as 
a magnet to draw her hearers to the story period and 
to hold them through it to the end. A good plan is 
to begin the program with a merry tale to put the 
group into a happy, receptive mood, follow it with a 
serious one containing the message or information the 
children should receive, and then give another humorous 
one. The serious narrative may be difficult for her 
to handle, and may not be given with the skill and 
charm that mark her rendition of another type of 
conte, but the children, understanding that one of her 
delightful "funny" stories is to follow, will listen 
through the less desired number and unconsciously 
receive its lesson, because of their eagerness to hear 
the succeeding one. Thus, by knowing her field of 
excellence and making the most of it, she can carry 
children into other fields because of their delight in 
meeting her in the one in which she is most at 
home. 



60 Educating by Story-Telling 

After the story is selected, the atmosphere and 
setting should be studied. The teller should have a 
clear idea of the topography of the country in which 
the events occur, of the customs of the people who 
move through it, of their homes, their modes of life, 
and their manner of dress, because the more into the 
spirit of the tale he can put himself, the more effectively 
will he give it. If it be a narrative of Scotland in the 
days of Bruce, he should try to hear the bagpipes, see 
the lochs and glens of the Highlands, and walk side 
by side with the heroes of that time. This means 
gleaning many fields for materials and giving something 
of an artist's labor to preparation, in which, of course, 
he will be limited by the time at his disposal. But 
according to the preparation will be the result, and to 
believe previous thought and study unnecessary be- 
cause one has natural facility for story-telling is to be 
gravely mistaken. Artists of the stage discovered long 
ago that no matter how gifted they may be, nothing 
can take the place of preparation. Adrienne Le- 
couvreur demonstrated the truth of this statement 
several centuries ago when she revolutionized acting, 
and theatrical folk are still demonstrating it, for in 
just this respect lies the difference between the third- 
and fourth-rate player and the great dramatic star. 
The leading man or woman who is satisfied to learn 
lines and do nothing more, does not get beyond stock. 
But one ambitious to climb to the top rung of the 
histrionic ladder will travel every bypath that may 
possibly yield him a fuller and richer comprehension 
of the part he has to play. Geraldine Farrar read 
everytliing obtainable about Japan and Japanese 



Telling the Story 61 

life before attempting to create the role of "Madame 
Butterfly," and Maude Adams spent months studying 
the life of the Maid of Orleans, following every step 
of her career from the hills of Domremy to the pyre at 
Rouen, before being satisfied to present "Jeanne 
d'Arc" at the Harvard Stadium. So it must be with 
the story-teller. Only the professional can devote 
weeks, or even days, to the preparation of one program, 
but every one who attempts to tell stories must know 
more than the plot of the tale and must have felt its 
events in all their possibilities, if his hearers in their 
turn are to feel them. 

The amount of preparation necessary varies with 
the individual. Those possessing natural facihty and 
those who heard much story- telling in childhood need 
less than those whom Nature has not gifted, or who 
were not so fortunate in early environment. But 
every one needs some preparation, and there is much 
slovenly, valueless story- telling because this fact is 
not generally recognized. Many teachers do not 
regard story-telling seriously enough, and devote far 
less thought to it than to other branches of their 
work, because the idea is prevalent that any one can 
spin a yarn or two. Consequently they accomphsh 
little through the medium of the story. But there is 
another group of workers who believe that story-telling 
means as much today as it meant centuries ago, and 
its members are sending children into the hbraries. As 
nearly as time and the conditions of their work will 
permit them, they are following in the footsteps of the 
medieval narrator. Like him, they are giving an 
artist's labor to their work because they reahze that 



62 Educating by Story-Telling 

great results come only through great effort. But 
the number of these story-tellers, compEired with the 
workers with children, is very small, and consequently 
results are not yet gratifying. They can become 
gratifying only when child leaders cease to think that 
the story period is the one period of the day for which 
no preparation need be made, and reahze that every 
minute devoted to previous thought and study will 
make the language come more spontaneously and 
fluently and will bring before the eyes of the listeners 
pictures that are clear because they first have been 
clear before the eyes of the teller. 

Every scene in a story should be visualized until 
it is as vivid as a painting on a canvas. It must be 
studied and imagined until it shifts smoothly and 
rapidly into the succeeding one. Then there will be 
no danger of the teller having to pause and think what 
comes next, or of having to interpolate something 
that should have been introduced at an earher stage 
of the tale. This is not equally easy for every one. 
Those who are imaginative by nature will find it no 
task, while for others it will be difficult at first. But 
no one need be discouraged. Each succeeding attempt 
will bring clearer pictures and smoother shifting of 
scenes, and gratifying results will follow labor and 
perseverance. It is a good plan for the beginner to 
jot down in outHne form the successive events of the 
story and study them until he can carry the sequence 
in his mind. 

When the pictures are clear and the order of events 
is fixed, the story should be practiced. This does not 
mean that it should be learned verbatim. Untrained 



Telling the Story 63 

narrators often make the mistake of memorizing para- 
graph by paragraph and sentence by sentence, and 
then giving the tale hke a recitation, which is not 
story-telling at all. Story-teUing is a constructive, 
creative art, and the tale that grips and convinces and 
inspires must be told in a manner that makes it seem 
hke the teller's own. Practicing the story means 
facing an imaginary audience and describing so vividly 
and clearly what is seen that others may see the pic- 
tures that pass before the mind's eye. 

Shall gesture and facial gymnastics be used? This 
depends entirely upon the temperament and person- 
ality of the narrator. If it is natural for him to gestic- 
ulate as he speaks, gesture will come spontaneously 
and will heighten the effect of the tale. But if move- 
ments of hand and head and body are not spontaneous, 
they will mar the rendition and scatter the interest of 
the listeners by dividing it between the teller and the 
tale. Story-telling then becomes touched with affecta- 
tion and loses its artistry. It degrades the story-teller 
into a sort of acrobatic performer and makes him a 
personage upon whom the attention is centered, which 
is not as it should be. He is simply the medium 
through which the picture is made clear to the audience. 
He is not an actor, and should not occupy the center of 
the stage. As Dr. Partridge says: "The story-teller 
should pleasingly suggest the mood and scene of the 
story, then step into the background, turn down the 
hghts on the present, and carry his hearers to a distant 
region, which he must make, for the time being, more 
real than the here and now." This is why the story- 
teller is at his best away from the glare of electricity, 



64 Educating by Story-Telling 

among the shadows of a summer gloaming, or by the 
open hearth when the firehght is dim, because then his 
hearers do not see him or think of him, but only of the 
pictures and scenes painted by his voice and words. 

Therefore let the guiding rule of the narrator be, 
" I must describe pictures so that others will see them, 
and think, not of me, but of the scenes to which I lead 
them." And he must do it in his individual way. If 
gestm-e comes naturally, it belongs in the tale. If it 
is studied and artificial, it destroys the effect and value. 
Some of the greatest story-tellers of the past used no 
gesture, while others used body, head, and hands with 
wonderful effect. They were persons of strong indi- 
viduality and did things in an individual way. Let 
the present-day story-teller profit by their example. 

Change of voice in dialogue adds to clearness of 
pictures. Nothing is more colorless than a reading 
by one whose intonation is not in keeping with the 
part he interprets, and the story told in a monotone 
is boresome and valueless to the child. He associates 
tone and action and wants them to be true to each 
other. He is dissatisfied if the old witch speaks like 
a loving mother, while the heavy tones of the wicked 
giant, the gentle ones of the good fairy, and the mirth- 
ful, rippling notes of the joyous, beautiful maiden 
delight him and make him responsive to the tale. 
They transform the personages of the story into living, 
breathing creatures who walk in his presence and smile 
or frown in his face. 

Pauses are wonderfully effective in heightening the 
interest in a story. Children fairly quiver with ex- 
pectation if frequent pauses are used when the moments 



Telling the Story 65 

of suspense grow big. They creep nearer in their 
eagerness to hear about what happens next, fearing 
that they will miss a bit of the attractive thread.) One 
small boy, asked why he took such dehght in listening 
to a certain story-teller, said: "I don't know if it's 
the way she looks or the way she says it. She'll be 
going along, telling about what happens, and all at 

once she'll say, 'And then ' and stop a httle bit 

until you think all kinds of things are going to happen." 
Tliis feehng is general with children, although they 
may not voice it, and behind the naive words is a 
psychological truth. The pause heightens the dramatic 
effect and focuses the interest on the coming sentences. 
Above all things, there should be no stopping in the 
midst of a tale to correct a child. If one shows evi- 
dence of lagging interest, mention his name as if the 
story were being told for him. " And, John, when little 
Red Riding Hood reached her grandmother's house 
she knocked on the door." This makes him feel that 
although many children are listening to the story, it 
is being given solely for his benefit. It touches his 
pride and grips his attention long enough to enable 
the narrator to muster all his forces and heighten the 
interest in the tale so that it will abound in suspense 
from that point. If it fails to do that, something is 
wrong, either with the selection or the presentation. 
Perhaps the pictures are not being made clear because 
they were not first clear in the mind of the teller. Per- 
haps the story is not an interesting one to that par- 
ticular group of children. It is the narrator's business 
to find the reason, just as artists in Europe must learn 
what is at fault when their hearers hiss. Audiences 



66 Educating by Story-Telling 

on the Continent are not so polite as those in America, 
and there is no mistaking their feehng about a perform- 
ance. When sounds of disapproval sweep over the 
house, the performer must rise to heights that will 
compel admiration or face a ruined career. Likewise, 
when a small boy becomes troublesome, the story- 
teller should not pause to correct him, but should 
make the tale so thrilhngly fascinating that the lad 
forgets to be naughty. Mothers seldom meet with this 
problem, but settlement workers are having to solve it 
constantly, and they do it successfully only by knowing 
what lies close to the child interests and teUing stories 
that touch those interests. 

There are those who denounce story-telhng in the 
schoolroom because they happen to have known of 
poor story-telling and the disorderly conduct that often 
ensues when the children's interest is not held. Not 
long ago I came across this statement in the report 
of a lecture delivered at a teachers' institute : 

"It is to be hoped that story-teUing will soon be 
ehminated from the primary grades, and that the 
spectacle of a teacher pausing in the midst of a tale 
to grasp a child by the arm and exclaim, ' Here, Johnny, 
straighten up and hsten,' will become past history." 

It certainly is to be hoped that such story-teUing 
will be ehminated, but it is no more fair to condemn 
story-telling as an art or to deprecate its value as an 
educational or ethical factor because there is poor 
story-telling, than it is to decry painting and sculpture 
because there are bunglers with brushes and chisels. 
The remedy does not lie in abolishing it, but in elevat- 
ing the standard of the workers to a higher plane and 



Telling the Story 67 

in demonstrating that story-telling syncopated by 
scoldings and admonitions is not story-telling at all. 

When shall we teU stories? Whenever, in the 
opinion of the teacher, a story will do more effective 
work than something else. Do not depend wholly 
on regular periods. These have a place on every school, 
hbrary, or settlement program, but the story period 
should not be the only time for telUng stories, because 
often a tale told at the psychological moment will 
make a deeper and more lasting impression than those 
given during a dozen regular periods. When the 
children are tired, tell a story for rest and relajtation. 
If there has been a fight or swearing, follow up the 
incident as soon as possible with an apt narrative. 
It wiU do more good than moralizing. If the geog- 
raphy class is struggling over the map of Turkey and 
can see nothing but a series of dots and marks on a 
piece of paper, put aside the formal recitation for that 
day and tell them of the building of the Mosque of 
Ahmed the First on the Golden Horn, of the merry 
craftsmen who raised the dome of St. Sophia, and 
give them some idea of how this glorious waif of the 
Orient came to stand on European soil. Make story- 
telling fit occasions and conditions instead of trying 
to make conditions fit story-teUing. 

And above all, never morahze ! As one authority 
says, "It is bad pedagogy and worse art." Remember 
what Dr. van Dyke says : "If a story is worth telling, 
moralizing is not necessary." It is not only unneces- 
sary, but harmful. The child sees for himself that 
virtue is rewarded and evil-doing is punished. He 
resents not being given credit for having sufficient 



68 Educating by Story-Telling 

intelKgence to understand it, and a personal applica- 
tion antagonizes him. 

Tell the tale in a direct, unassuming manner — not 
as if you are talking down to a group of children, but as 
if you are one of the number, talking with them. Boys 
and girls dishke the patronizing story-teller as much 
as adults dishke the patronizing person, and are quick 
to detect affectation and insincerity. They will not 
receive the message a posing raconteur has to give, 
because his manner of delivering it irritates and es- 
tranges them. The successful story-teller must be 
like the poet, a joy bringer, and he can be that only 
when his work is marked by sincerity and genuineness 
as clear as brook water. 

Books on Story-Telling 

Allison, S. B., and Perdue, H. A. : The Story in Primary Education. 

Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin: For the Story-Teller. 

Bryant, Sara Cone : How to Tell Stories to Children. 

Coe, Fanny E. : First Book of Stories for the Story-Teller ; Second Book 

of Stories for the Story-Teller. 
CowLES, Julia D. : The Art of Story-Telling. 
Dye, Charity : The Story-Teller's Art. 
Forbush, William B. : Story-Telling in the Home. 
Keyes, Angela M. : Stories and Story-Telling. 
Lindsay, Maud: The Story-Teller for Little Children. 
Lyman, Edna : Story-Telling : What to Tell and How to Tell It. 
McMuRRY, Charles A. : Special Method in Primary Reading and Oral 

Work, with Stories. 
Partridge, Emelyn N. and George E. : Story-Telling in the Home 

and School. 
St. John, Porter : The Story in Moral and Religious Education. ]] 
Shedlock, Marie L. : The Art of the Story-Teller. 
WiLTSE, Sara E. : The Place of the Story in Early Education. 
Wyche, Richard Thomas : Some Great Stories and How to Tell Them. 



CHAPTER EIGHT 

Story-Telling to Lead to an Appreciation of 
Literature 

ONE of the specific aims of education is to endow 
children with an appreciation of Kterature, and 
to this end much of a teacher's energy is directed./ 
From the elementary school through the university 
the curriculum includes a course in English, and even 
in kindergarten and primary gi'ades a point is made 
of introducing children to those authors whose work 
is conceded to have a strong appeal for them. The 
first, second, or third grade boy is required to read 
and memorize selections from Stevenson, Riley, and 
Eugene Field; not infrequently he is detained after 
school because of failure to have his lesson prepared 
at recitation time, and responds to the requirement 
in a mood that brings discouragement to his teacher. 

On the other hand, there are schools in which the 
literature or reading hour is a period of joy, where the 
learning of songs of the singers of childhood is ac- 
complished without coercion. These schools are the 
ones in which the teachers have learned that the ac- 
quisition of knowledge, to be of real value, must be 
attended with enjoyment. 

It is a mistake to believe that although the function 
of the school is to equip the man, the aim of education 
is only to give enjoyment in the future. It is also the 
aim of education to give enjoyment now, because in this 
way capacity for enjoyment in the future is made 
possible. The boy or girl whose early association with 
poetry or beautiful prose is attended with displeasure 

69 



70 Educating by Story-Telling 

and discomfort is no more likely to be drawn to the 
finer types of literatm'e later than the man or woman 
is apt to be fond of a person, the first meeting with whom 
was a disagreeable experience. If we would have the 
man love good literatm-e, we must first lead the child 
to love good hterature, and we can do this only through 
having him enjoy good literature. 

Because story-telhng brings pleasure to the child, 
it is a most effective means of leading him to an ap- 
preciation of literature. Through the medium of the 
story we not only can heighten his capacity for en- 
joyment and elevate the standard of his taste, but we 
can equip him with knowledge he will never acquire 
if the hterature period is associated with force and 
punishment. If a tale brings pleasing pictures before 
his eyes and is beautiful in theme and language, he 
unconsciously forms a taste for beautiful language, 
for he is not only getting the succession of events that 
make the plot, but is also absorbing words and expres- 
sions. Certain sentences stick in his memory, and 
teachers who have children reproduce stories know that 
frequently they use the exact plu-ases and sentences 
that have been used by the teller. They do not re- 
member these for a day or an hour and then forget 
them ; they remember them as years go by, and as- 
sociate certain words with certain narratives. 

William McKinley once said that the mention of 
willows by a river made him think of the story of 
Moses in the bulrushes, and brought to mind this 
sentence: "And she hid the basket among the rushes 
in a spot where willows hung over the river." The 
story had been told him in childhood and brought him 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Literature 71 

enjoyment, and some of the narrator's expressions left 
a lasting imprint on his mind. " I believe that story, 
more than anything else," he once said, "gave me a 
fondness for elegant English." 

James A. Garfield voiced almost the same thought, 
declaring that his taste for hterature was shaped by 
stories from great authors told him by his mother 
during his early years, and many other men of achieve- 
ment have attested to the same truth. They have 
proved conclusively out of their own experience that 
even with little children it is possible to lay a founda- 
tion upon which a noble and enduring structure can 
be built. We can give them an appreciation of stories 
and poems that are among the gems of hterature. 

We can also interest children in the life of an author 
so that they will want to know something of his work. 
This statement often brings the question, "How, 
since little children want stories that are full of action, 
and not biographies of men and women they never 
have seen.^" Is it not true that the childhood of all 
great men contained interesting experiences, that if 
told as stories will lead little people to want to know 
about what these boys and girls did when they grew 
up.^ 

Robert Louis Stevenson is a good example. Every 
child will listen sympathetically to the tale of the 
poor little rich boy who was often so ill that he could 
not run and play, but who made the best of things 
and amused himself with toys on his bed. He built 
cities out of blocks. He watched the lamplighter 
go on his evening rounds along the street, and some- 
times in the summer, the dewy, Scotch summer that can 



72 Educating by Story-Telling 

be pictured so attractively to children, when he went 
with his nurse to the country or the shore, he put 
leaves and chips in the river and pretended that they 
were boats. He dug holes in the sand with his wooden 
spade and laughed to see the vagrant waves come up 
and fill them. The child who hears about his various 
experiences will become intensely interested in little 
Robert, and will grow to love "The Land of Counter- 
pane," "The River," "At the Seashore," and other 
selections from A Child's Garden of Verses. Every 
time he reads or hears them he will see a picture of the 
wee Scotch lad whose story touched his heart. 

This is no untried theory. Through story-telling, 
the author of Treasure Island has become a living 
personage and A Child's Garden of Verses a source 
of delight in more than one first grade. A teacher 
who had charge of forty httle Italians devoted fifteen 
minutes each morning to stories of writers and their 
works, and by the end of the term the children had a 
knowledge of Stevenson and Field that amazed the 
superintendent. More valuable than the knowledge 
acquired was the capacity for real enjoyment of some 
of the works of these men, enjoyment so intense that 
during the half hour of song and games that was a 
feature of every Friday, it was not unusual for a small 
Tony or Gulielmo to flutter a brown hand and ask to 
be permitted to recite : 

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings, 
And nests among the trees. 

Another teacher was rewarded for her work by 
hearing the mother of one of her pupils tell at a parent- 



i 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Literature 73 

teachers' meeting of how a certain Httle lad amused 
himself while recuperating from measles by enter- 
taining the household with songs from Stevenson and 
stories about httle Robert, who became the big Robert 
that wrote the book. 

In doing this sort of work, however, it is necessary 
to keep in mind the story interests of childhood, to 
remember that children are interested in cliildren, 
and not begin, "Wlien Robert Louis Stevenson was a 
httle boy," but rather, " Once there was a httle boy who 
hved far away from here, and his name was Robert." 
Let the approach be from the child to the man instead 
of from the man to the child. Focus the interest of 
children upon one hke themselves, then lead in a natural 
way to the man and his achievements. 
£ Sometimes children can be interested in a piece of 
literature tlirough a story about it or suggested by it, 
because often one tale helps to illuminate and clarify 
and add interest to another. 

Suppose a primary teacher or a mother wishes to 
take up Tennyson's "Sweet and Low," a piece of 
hterature that is either a succession of vivid, dehghtful 
pictures or a vague group of words, according to the 
manner in which it is presented. Tell of the baby who 
hved with the father and mother in a fishing village 
on the Isle of Wight. Each day the father had to go 
far out to sea in a boat to catch fish to sell for money 
with which to buy food for his dear ones, and each 
night the baby laughed and crowed when he came home. 
Once he stayed later than usual, and baby did not want 
to go to bed without seeing him ; but the mother sang 
a pretty song, saying that father would soon be home, 



74 Educating by Story-Telling 

and crooned and rocked her little one until he fell asleep. 
It was a pleasant evening, with a big, silver moon, 
and a man was out walking — a rich man who lived 
in a house on a hill high above the fishers' huts. As 
he went by the cottage where the baby lived, he heard 
the mother singing, and the song was so sweet that he 
hurried home and wrote what it made him think about. 
Then follow with the poem, and the children will re- 
ceive it gladly. 

This same plan can be used with older children, but 
let the material be given in story form instead of as a 
series of disconnected incidents. 

An excellent method is to give the story of a great 
writer's work. This is effective with children of all 
ages, and often leads to the reading of books that other- 
wise would never be opened. Sometimes the objection 
is made that it is wrong to substitute the story of a 
work for the work itself, a statement no thinking person 
will gainsay. But this does not mean substitution. 
It means whetting the appetite until the child hungers 
for the thing you want him to have. Instead of telUng 
him what he should read, arouse his curiosity to the 
point where he wants to read it, and the desired result 
will foUow. Fifty years ago it was safe to give a boy 
or a girl a beautiful piece of literature and tell him he 
ought to read it, but it is not safe now, not because 
there is anything wrong with the children of our time, 
but because conditions are different. Books were rare 
and costly then, and young people read whatever 
came to hand. Today books are cheap and plentiful, 
and present-day literature plunges directly into the 
compHcations of the story. People are in a hurry to 



i 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Literature 75 

know what it is all about, because of the spirit of the 
age. There is less leisure now than there was half 
a century ago, as there is more competition, and re- 
sults must be regJized more rapidly than our fore- 
fathers reahzed them. Consequently we travel faster, 
get rich faster, and move more speedily in every way. 
Present-day literature reflects present-day spirit, and 
the story must begin with the opening sentence. Boys 
and girls simply wiU not go through pages of intro- 
ductions and descriptions before striking the plot of 
the tale, no matter how beautiful those introductions 
and descriptions may be. They want books that 
get somewhere from the beginning. So the problem 
confronts all who are interested in the education of 
children: "How can we make them as eager to read 
Dickens, Scott, and Thackeray as they are to read 
Jack London and Phillips Oppenheim ? How can they 
be made to go as gladly to Bulwer Lytton as they go to 
the Henty books?" By means of story-telling. Give 
them an idea of the plots of the masters of Hterature, 
enough to whet the desire to know more about them. 

It is not sufficient just to tell the story, because it 
was not the plots of these writers that made them great 
artists. It was their manner of handling their plots, 
their delineation of character, the philosophy and 
human wisdom they put into the mouths of their heroes, 
and the boy or girl who does not become acquainted 
with these great creators during school days is likely 
never to know them, because he forms a taste for read- 
ing of a more ephemeral nature, and he may go through 
hfe a devourer of books, yet be only half educated. 

Why is it that so many young people never look at 



76 Educating by Story-Telling 

the English classics after they leave high school, and 
would rather spend a morning at hard labor than in 
reading As You Like It or A Midsummer NighVs 
Dream? Because too much attention was given to 
the dissecting process when they studied these plays. 
Instead of being taught to see the beautiful and finished 
creation of some master, they were made to see the 
skeleton and to pull it to pieces. Some teachers assign 
a certain number of pages or paragraphs or stanzas 
for a lesson, and the pupils look up the words in the 
dictionary, point out the figures of speech, and scan 
the lines. Sometimes the teacher reads the assign- 
ment when it is made. Sometimes children dramatize 
it after they have torn it into shreds, or write a para- 
phrase. But the heart and soul of the masterpiece, 
the sheer beauty of it, are considered least of all, and 
students end by heartily hating something that they 
might have enjoyed and loved. Yet people wonder 
why the average American has so little appreciation 
of good literature, and think something is wrong with 
young folk who, after a high-school course in English, 
will read nothing but popular novels. There is noth- 
ing whatsoever the matter with the boys and girls. 
They simply follow the bent of all human beings and 
steer from the unpleasant toward the pleasant. They 
go to the books of the day that they can understand, 
because much of our great literature, presented as it 
is, means nothing to them. Less fortunate than 
youths of fifty years ago, they are not forced to read 
good books if they read at all. There are verdant, 
if less beautiful, meadows on every side where they 
may browse, and into them they go. 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Literature 77 

It is infinitely better that a child's school life provide 
him with a capacity for the enjoyment of literatm-e 
than that he have a technical knowledge of a few 
pieces of literature, because the latter endows him with 
a narrow, academic viewpoint, while the former makes 
possible a future growth, without a capacity for which 
life must be narrow and one-sided. A boy or girl 
may know that Shakespeare wrote Twelfth Night or 
Macbeth, that Milton created "The Hymn to the 
Nativity" or Shelley "The Skylark," be able to para- 
phrase each and analyze the sentences that comprise 
them, and not be a bit better fitted for life than he would 
be without that knowledge. But he is better equipped 
for hfe if he has acquired a capacity for the enjoyment 
of literature, so that to read a great book gives him 
pleasure or causes him to respond with sympathy, and 
the Enghsh teacher who does not develop this capacity 
in children has failed in his function. 

The approach to the great field of literature must be 
through specific examples, just as the approach to an 
understanding of art or architecture must be through 
the canvases of Raphael, Cimabue, or Giotto, or the 
temples that were the triumphs of Egyptian, Babylo- 
nian, or Hellenic builders. But if they are to be en- 
joyed, acquaintance with these specific examples must 
be made in a pleasurable manner. They first must be 
beheld in a perspective that gives glimpses of them as 
complete and beautiful wholes, and not through the de- 
tailed workmanship of architrave or abacus or by focus- 
ing the attention on the massing of figures according to 
square or triangular outline. And just as the under- 
standing and enjoyment of one great structure or paint- 



78 Educating by Story-Telling 

ing give added interest to every other one, so, in the 
reahn of Hterature, each masterpiece enjoyed gives 
capacity for the enjoyment of every other masterpiece 
met with in the futm^e. Therefore the story, because 
it is a means of flashing the entire structure on the screen 
and making it possible for children to see the completed 
whole in all its beauty, is the Enghsh teacher's most 
veJuable tool. 

Take Evangeline as an example. Most children leave 
school knowing that Longfellow wrote that poem, and 
that Evangeline lost her lover on the wedding day and 
spent the remainder of her life seeking him. But 
you cannot coax them to read the poem again because 
of the memory of the time when they studied it. And 
the pity of it is that there is no work of American 
hterature so appealing to boys and girls in the adoles- 
cent period as Evangeline, if it is presented wisely. 

Before they are asked to study it, if the story of the 
Acadian girl is told sympathetically and feelingly they 
are touched by its pathos and fired by the idealism of 
its characters, and they feel the charm of life in the 
quaint old village of Grand Pre. If, before they are 
told to read it, they have gone with the heroine through 
the magic of the narrator's picturing, in her wanderings 
over mountain and lowland, into Indian camp and 
sequestered mission, living among strange peoples and 
sleeping by strange fires, they will read it with enthu- 
siasm. It will become a joy instead of a burden, be- 
cause they wiU have felt something of what was in the 
heart of the poet who wrote it, and not merely what 
appeared on the printed page. 

Besides the main thread of the story, there are many 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Literature 79 

sub-stories that, if told in connection with the poem, 
will add to the child's enjoyment and understanding 
of it. Sometimes a name is rich in story material, yet 
often it is passed over with nothing more than a def- 
inition found in the pronouncing gazetteer, and a 
golden opportunity is lost. 

Take, for instance, the line, "Now in the Tents of 
Grace of the gentle Moravian missions." There is a 
footnote in most editions stating, "This refers to the 
Moravian mission of Gnadenhiitten." But what does 
that signify to children, since there were many missions 
in those early days ? But if they are told of how the 
Moravians came from the distant German mountains 
to plant the tree of their faith in the Western wilds, 
they grow interested. They are fascinated as the tale 
goes on, picturing how these simple folk founded a 
mission in the woods of Ohio, wliich they named 
"Gnadenhiitten" or "Tents of Grace," and telling how 
a massacre occurred there in 1790, not savages killing 
off whites, but a band of marauding British troops 
slaughtering Christianized Indians as they toiled peace- 
fully in their cornfields. Then, as Evangeline roams 
over the Southwest, into the bayou country of Loui- 
siana, if pictures of the early life there are painted 
vividly by the story-teller, if she gives some of the 
events of old Creole days, the children will look for- 
ward to the Evangeline period. 

This same method will add enjoyment to the study 
of other pieces of literature. The Courtship of Miles 
Standish, aside from the main plot, is rich in stories 
from the Bible. The children should look up these 
allusions, but the teacher should put hfe into them 



80 Educating by Story-Telling 

by giving the story. In fact, there is no piece of Hter- 
ature studied below the high school, or even during 
the early part of the high-school course, that cannot 
be presented with splendid results through the story- 
telling method. The concrete precedes the abstract 
in the order in which selections are considered, those 
through which a story thread runs being given in ad- 
vance of the essay or treatise. By making the most of 
this story thread, hterature study will become pleasur- 
able and bring splendid response from the children. It 
requires effort and preparation, but it pays. It is 
worth much to the teacher who loves good literature, 
to look back over the years and think of the children 
she has led to appreciate and enjoy it. It is a tre- 
mendous satisfaction to have boys come back long 
after leaving her schoolroom and seek her out, because 
through her they learned to know something of the 
comfort that is to be found in good old books. One 
teacher, speaking of her experience, said : "It made all 
the effort seem richly worth while, when a broad- 
shouldered, sun-burned man went three hundred miles 
out of his way to see me on a home visit to America, 
and thank me for having led him to enjoy poetry." 
As a boy he became intensely interested in The Lady 
of the Lake because his teacher gave the stories of Fitz- 
James and Roderick Dhu and of the clan life of the 
Highlands, and a pocket edition of Scott was a source 
of comfort to him during a surveying expedition in the 
wilds of West Australia, and took away the loneliness of 
nights spent by a camp fire with no companions save the 
native woodmen. He had learned to know Scott during 
his boyhood, and the capacity for enjoyment acquired 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Literature 81 

through that association was a priceless possession to 
the man. If more teachers reahzed that story-telhng 
is a direct road to the understanding of Hterature, and 
that it has its place in grammar and high-school grades 
as much as in the kindergarten, there would be less 
drudgery for them and more satisfying results. 

Some Authors and Selections That Can Be Presented 

THROUGH THE StORY-TeLLING MeTHOD 

Browning : Herve Riel (Give picture of life of sailors on the Breton 
coast. Herve Riel was so accustomed to taking fishing boats 
through the passage that the piloting of the ship did not seem any 
feat to him) ; How They Brought the Good News from Ghent 
to Aix ; An Incident of the French Camp ; The Pied Piper of 
Hamelin (Tell how the poet came to write this work — to entertain 
a child who was visiting him). 

Bryant: The White-footed Deer; The Woodman and the Sandal 
Tree;' The Donkey and the Mocking Bird, and other poems 
from the Spanish. 

Dickens : Little Nell {Old Curiosity Shop) ; Tiny Tim {Chrislmas 
Carol) ; Nicholas Nickleby ; David Copperfield, and other child 
characters of Dickens. 

George Eliot: Maggie Tulliver Cutting her Hair, Maggie Run- 
ning Away to Live with the Gypsies, Tom and the Ferrets {The 
Mill on the Floss) ; Silas Marner and Little Eppie {Silas Marner) . 

Irving: Legend of Sleepy Hollow {The Sketch Book); The Governor 
and the Notary (Other stories from Tales from the Alhambra) ; 
The Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus (Many chapters 
in this contain fascinating stories, which if told to the children 
will lead them to read the work); Rip Van Winkle {The Sketch 
Book) (Tell also the German story of Peter Claus, from which 
Irving drew his inspiration to write this tale ; also the Chinese 
story, "The Feast of Lanterns," the hero of which is an oriental 
Rip Van Winkle). 

KiNGSLEY : How They Took the Gold Train (Westward Ho!) ; Water 
Babies; Hypatia. 

Longfellow : Evangehne ; Courtship of Miles Standish ; Hiawatha ; 
King Robert of Sicily; St. Francis' Sermon to the Birds (Tell 



82 Educating by Story-Telling 

story of St. Francis of Assisi) ; Paul Revere's Ride ; The Emperor's 
Bird's Nest ; Walther von der Vogelweide (In this connection tell 
story of Walther and the Minnesingers. Story can be found in Pan 
and His Pipes, and Other Stories, Victor Talking Machine Com- 
pany) . 

Southey: Inchcape Rock; Bishop Hatto and the Mouse Tower; 
The WeU of St. Keyne. 

Stevenson : Treasure Island ; Kidnapped ; Island Nights' Entertain- 
ment. 

Tennyson : The Holy Grail (This poem is beyond the understanding of 
boys and girls of grammar grades, or even early high-school years, 
but they may be familiarized with portions of it, and the Grail 
story is a wonderful one to give them. It should include also the 
tale of "Parsifal" and "Lohengrin," as related by Wolfram von 
Eschenbach and Wagner). 

This list is in no way comprehensive, but the wide- 
awake teacher will find it suggestive of a much longer 
one, which is as much as the author of a single text- 
book may hope for. 

Sources of Material to Lead to an Appreciation of 
Literature 

Lamb, Charles and Mary : Tales from Shakespeare. 
Lang, Jeanie : Stories from Shakespeare Told to the Children. 
Sweetser, Kate D. : Boys and Girls from George Eliot; Boys and 

Girls from Thackeray ; Ten Boys from Dickens. 
SwiNTON, William, and Cathcart, George R. : Book of Tales from 

Fine Authors. 



CHAPTER NINE 

Story-Telling to Awaken an Appreciation of 

Music 

THE public school aims not only to give boys and 
girls a training that shall equip them with 
ability to gain a livelihood and provide for their ma- 
terial wants, but to give them resources within them- 
selves from which to draw pleasure, broaden and 
deepen the emotional powers, enrich the soul by en- 
dowing it with capacity to respond to the beautiful and 
fine, and make them more sympathetic toward the joys 
and sorrows of their fellows. That is why the curricu- 
lum includes a course in music, drawing, and subjects 
that are branches of a great art. We do not expect 
to make professional musicians or painters of all the 
children who receive instruction, but aim to give the 
average child, the one who will grow to be an average, 
ordinary man, an appreciation of the tilings that give 
color and beauty to life and make him richer in mind 
and happier. 

Taste is formed by what is heard in youth, and the 
child whose early years are associated with ragtime 
grows to be a devotee of ragtime, while he who hears 
the music of the masters becomes a man who loves 
great music. This is why the average European has 
a knowledge and love of melody that amazes Ameri- 
cans. He has heard good music from infancy. It is 
sung in the public meeting places of his town and 
whistled in the streets. The gamin of Naples, Rome, 
and Venice knows the arias from the operas as well as 
American children know their national anthem, and 

83 



84 Educating by Story-Telling 

Verdi, Donizetti, and Rossini are more than names 
to him. He has heard their melodies from infancy, 
and his father or uncle or some street story-teller has 
familiarized him with the plots of their librettos. He 
knows something of the artists who sing the roles, 
also, because the tailor and the barber and the baker 
not infrequently go to hear them, and they are a topic 
of conversation in the home. Here in America we 
have not had such opportunities. With us the opera 
and the symphony orchestra are exotics which only a 
minority has been trained to enjoy, and consequently 
we cannot be regarded as a musical people. 

It is natural that this should be so, because, as com- 
pared with Continental lands, we are very young, and 
youth cannot hope to compete with maturity. But 
artistic standards in the United States are being raised 
steadily. Most of our great cities now have symphony 
orchestras and a season of opera, while the municipal 
band concert is part of the life of comparatively small 
towns, and the programs are of a higher order than 
formerly. We are on the upward move, and meanwhile 
every leader of children should do his part in the great 
work of helping to elevate the national musical 
standard. 

The schools are doing something, but not enough, 
because much of the instruction they give is of a techni- 
cal nature, and although pupils can read in several 
keys and beat time correctly, it does not follow that 
they are acquiring a capacity for the enjoyment of 
good music. Until one has sufficient mental develop- 
ment to understand something of the price that must 
be paid for artistic success, much attention to the 



I 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Music 85 

technical vitiates interest in music, just as the dissect- 
ing method of study kills interest in literature. Many 
teachers make more of an effort to have children learn 
to read music than they do to have them enjoy it, and 
this close attention to the mechanics of the art makes 
the music period burdensome instead of enjoyable. 
Before the child can see any incentive in learning do — 
re — mi, he must hear and enjoy music and must under- 
stand that do — re — mi is a key that will unlock gates 
into larger fields of enjoyment. Because the hour is 
replete with drudgery rather than joy, the disciphne 
of the music class is often a good deal of a problem, 
and although it is not an ideal condition, it exists more 
frequently than most people reahze. A teacher whose 
class distinguished itself in sight singing at an institute, 
was asked how she made its members so proficient. 

"Simply by keeping a strap on my desk and using 
it about every seven minutes," she replied ; " and those 
who did not have actual contact with it kept straight 
because they knew it was there." 

This is perhaps an extreme case, but the school- 
rooms in which the music lesson is a period of nervous 
strain for both teacher and pupils are numerous, and 
it is not strange that sometimes trustees question 
whether it might not be well to eliminate music from 
the list of public-school subjects. 

An adage of the old Italian school of vocalists, 
whose methods have given so many glorious songsters 
to the world, was, "To sing, you must be happy," 
and one of the most celebrated prima donnas of today 
attributes a large measure of her success to the fact 
that during childhood her mother had the wisdom 



86 Educating by Story-Telling 

never to make music burdensome by forcing her to it, 
but played for her and sang to her without stint, giv- 
ing her countless opportunities of hearing music and 
leading her to love it. Then when she began formal 
study at twelve, her teacher did not harass her with 
exercises, but gave simple songs that she liked to sing, 
songs chosen to give her voice the exercise it needed 
and to appeal to the natural love of melody. 

We might well apply this plan to our public-school 
music, and arrange courses so that children will hear 
much good music, even if the amount of technical 
work has to be greatly lessened. It is here that the 
story may do its far-reaching work in helping to make 
the music period pleasurable to the children and caus- 
ing them to respond with keener pleasure to a higher 
standard of music. 

Many narrators exclaim, "It is not possible for me 
to lead children to appreciate the great music when 
I do not know the great music myself." 

But it is possible. Of course it is easier for one who 
is famihar with the masterpieces of melody to lead 
children to them than for one who is not; but even 
though the mother or teacher was not in her own 
childhood familiar with Mozart or Mendelssohn, she 
can bring children to appreciate these artists because 
the talking machine has made it possible. She need 
not try to acquaint them with the technical terms, and 
mechanics of music, but she can arouse an interest 
that is the twin sister of inspiration, and she can do 
it in such a way that every minute devoted to the 
work is filled with delight. She can tell the life story 
of some great composer and famiharize the child with 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Music 87 

selections from his work that will guide him away from 
the cheap and tawdry. She can give him incidents 
connected with the composition of musical gems, and 
a glimpse into the great treasure house of musical 
hterature that will cause him to want to know more of 
the achievements of the immortal melody makers. It 
is not necessary that one be a musician in order to 
do this. Most schools and many homes are now 
supphed with talking machines, and the records manu- 
factured by the different companies bring masterpieces 
within the reach of all. Even the catalogs are rich in 
suggestion, and following the cues supphed by them, 
a httle thought and labor will bring most gratifying 
results. Almost all the great composers had eventful 
childhoods, and the early days of Mendelssohn, 
Mozart, Bach, Haydn, Handel, Beethoven, Chopin, 
Verdi, Wagner, and many others are rich in incidents 
that children enjoy hearing. These biographies, sources 
for which are listed in the appended bibliography 
(page 94), if told in story form and followed by selec- 
tions from the artist's works, will make an impression 
and arouse an interest as nothing else can do. Do not, 
however, make the mistake of beginning with the man 
and leading down to his childhood. Begin with his 
early years and lead up to his achievements. The 
child will become interested in the man only through 
his childhood, because children are near his own in- 
terests, while adults are not. Many inexperienced 
story-teUers do not understand this, and are disap- 
pointed in their failure to hold their little hearers. 
This was demonstrated not long ago in a university 
course in story-telling. An incident in the childhood 



88 Educating by Story-Telling 

of Mozart was to be given in story form to introduce 
some of that composer's works to a group of children. 
Eighty per cent of the five hundred preparing the 
paper began thus: "When the great Mozart was a 
httle boy." That introduction meant nothing to the 
children, because they did not know "the great Mo- 
zart," and were not interested in strange men. But 
they were intensely interested in hearing about a child 
who long, long ago was sailing down the Danube with 
his father and sister Marianne and was very much 
distressed because the father would have to pay duty 
on the harp they carried and therefore, when they 
reached Vienna, Marianne could not have a new dress 
that she sadly needed. Little eyes sparkled and little 
hands clapped when the children heard how, as they 
reached the customhouse of the Austrian capital, young 
Wolfgang asked his father if he might play something 
on the harp, and his rendition so delighted and amazed 
the officials that the duty was waived and Marianne 
was shabbily clad no longer. 

There are many musical stories besides those of lives 
of the composers that should be given to children : 
tales of the violin makers of Cremona, the minnesingers, 
the troubadours, the meistersingers. Pan and his 
pipes, Apollo and the lyre, David and the harp. King 
Alfred and the harp, the harp at Tara, the Crusaders 
bringing some stringed instruments into Europe, the 
development of the orchestra, the evolution of the harp 
from the bended bow of the early tribesmen, and the 
making of the piano. Stories of some of the operas, 
especially those based on the legends of the Grail and 
the Rhinegold, are delightful tales to give to children. 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Music 89 

A good way to introduce cliildren to a composer is 
by combining the story of his hfe with selections from 
his work, as in the following story about Schubert. 
This method may be apphed to the study of any com- 
poser. Libraries are rich in materials, and the talking- 
machine companies bring the music within the reach 
of all ; so there is no reason why the story-teller should 
not do his part in making our nation a music-loving 
land, as well as give pleasure to the children under his 
guidance. 

"Whoever puts a beautiful thought or melody into 
the world," writes an Indian poet, "gives more than 
a diamond of Golconda." Whoever helps a child to 
understand and enjoy beautiful thoughts and melodies, 
gives in almost as great a measure as their creator. 
He too is a builder, leaving behind him something fit 
to stand, and labor of that kind does not go unrequited. 

A BOY OF OLD VIENNA 

Little Franz could hardly wait for the sun to rise. He had 
lain awake all night thinking of what morning would bring, 
and it seemed as if the long, dark hours would never end. 
But now it was dawn, and he knew that very soon the sun 
would gild the hilltops, and then the thing of which he had 
dreamed for days would come to pass. 

"Are you up, Franz?" his mother called from below. 

"Yes," he answered cheerily, "up and dressing." 

The mother smiled at him as he ran down into the kitchen, 
for she knew how eagerly he had looked forward to this day. 
Josef, the kindly neighbor, had promised to t£ike him that 
very morning to a warehouse where many fine pianos were 
kept, and he would spend hours among the beautiful instru- 



90 Educating by Story-Telling 

ments there. No wonder he was glad ! The one his father 
provided for him was cheap and harsh, for Herr Schubert 
was just a poor schoolmaster and had few coins to spend 
for anything besides food and clothing. But that did not 
keep Franz from doing wonders with his music. He learned 
all he could from his brothers, and worked away at the poor 
piano because he could not help it. Now that he was soon 
to touch the keyboard of a really splendid instrument, he 
felt like a prince in a fairy tale. 

They went out of the house and along the dingy street in 
which the Schuberts lived. Across the Danube they passed 
by the old stone bridge that led to the Ringstrasse, then north- 
ward into that pant of the city where the warehouses stood. 
Groups of citizens in holiday attire hurried by, and now and 
then some great lord or lady in a fme carriage passed them 
on the way to worship at St. Stephen's. But Franz thought 
only of reaching the warehouse, and he walked so fast that 
Josef, who was short and fat, began to grow red in the face and 
pant, and he was quite as glad as the boy when they reached 
the building. 

Franz lost no time in getting to a piano. Sunday comes 
just once a week, and another would not come for seven long 
days. He sat down at one of the lovely instruments, playing 
and singing as if nothing in the world mattered so much as 
music. He was only eleven years old, and boys of that age 
usually want to be out with others, engaged in the sports 
and games boys love. But not so with Franz Schubert. He 
was happiest at his music. He played and played and was 
so busy that he did not see a stranger come into the ware- 
house or hear his voice in earnest conversation with Josef. 

"You say he has had no music masters?" the man asked 
wonderingly. 

Josef shook his head. "None but his brothers, Ignace 
and Ferdinand, and once, for a very short time, his father 
sent him to a singing tutor. But he said he could teach him 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Music 91 

nothing, for when he thought to give him something new he 
found he had learned it aheady." 

"Surely he is a wonder child," the stranger remarked, 
"Be sure to tell his father to bring him tomorrow and we will 
try him." 

Then he passed out, but Franz did not see him. Nor did 
he know a word that had been spoken until on the way home, 
when Josef told him that the emperor's choirmaster had 
passed by and was so pleased with his singing and playing 
that he wanted him in the royal choir. 

So little Franz Schubert became a choir boy, and the 
master wondered more and more that one so young could 
know so much of music. 

Then he went to a boys' school. His clothes were not very 
fine, for he was poor. But he wore the best he had, a light 
gray suit that was far from handsome. Some of the richer 
boys thought it funny and nicknamed him "the miller." 
But when Franz passed the severe singing examination so 
well that he was given one of the gold-braided honor uni- 
forms, they did not tease him again. No one else did as well 
in the orchestra as the httle Schubert lad. No one else sang 
as understandingly as he, and his master and fellow students, 
like the royal choirmaster, called him a wonder child. Every 
boy in the school liked him, and Franz liked them all too, 
but especially a young man named Spaun. And Spaun's 
name is remembered to this day just because once upon a 
time he was kind to httle Franz Schubert. He was almost 
twenty when Franz was but eleven, but they were jolly com- 
panions and the best of friends. 

One day Franz said, "If I had some paper I know I could 
write a song." 

But paper he had not, because his father could not afford 
to buy it. Spaun always had a little money to spend, how- 
ever, so Franz got the paper and wrote the song, and after 
that his friend supplied him with writing material. He en- 



92 Educating by Story-Telling 

joyed doing it because he liked the lad, but he did not realize 
that it would mean much to the world. It did mean a great 
deal, however, for some of the songs Franz wrote during his 
school days are still sung as among the sweetest in the world, 
and perhaps but for Spaun's paper they might not have 
been written. 

Well, Franz grew up just as other boys grow, and still 
he went on loving music and working at it, playing and writ- 
ing songs. Almost everything he read or saw made him think 
of a melody, and every melody that formed in his brain was 
beautiful. 

One evening he went into a restaurant in Vienna for his 
dinner. He had a small copy of Shakespeare in his pocket, 
and as he waited to be served he took it out and read. His 
eye fell upon the lines : 

Hark, hark I the lark at heaven's gate sings. 

And Phcfibus 'gins arise, 

His steeds to water at those springs 

On chaliced flowers that hes. 

They made him think of a song, and he looked about for 
paper upon which to write it. He asked the waiter to get him 
a piece, but the waiter could find nothing but a bill of fare. 
Schubert took that and wrote his melody, and when Shake- 
speare's words were sung to it, the song sounded like this : 

[At this point in the story run a record of "Hark, hark the 
lark."] 

Another time he was passing through a poor quarter of 
Vienna and heard a peasant serenading a girl. Schubert did 
not think the song a very pretty one, and he went home and 
wrote one that he liked better. This is how it sounds : 

[Record of "The Serenade."] 

When Franz Schubert was a little child, he heard his father 
tell an old German story. It was called " The Erl King" and 
was about a witchlike creature who was supposed to take 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Music 93 

children from their parents. Franz always remembered it, 
and after he grew to manhood and read Goethe's poem, 
"The Erl King," a friend told him how the master came to 
write it. One wild winter night the poet was visiting in the 
home of a physician and a man came riding through the 
storm, seeking help for the child he had with him. The httle 
fellow was delirious with fever and kept clinging to his father, 
crying and begging him not to let the Erl King take him away. 
The incident affected Goethe so deeply that he wrote the 
poem, and Schubert, hearing the story, was so touched by it 
that he composed wonderful music to go with the master's 
words. 

[Record of "The Erl King."] 

Another poem of Goethe's that he read told of a wild rose 
growing on a heath. A boy saw the rose and said, "I will 
pluck you." The rose said, "No, no. If you do I will prick 
you." The foolish boy laughed and picked the rose, and it 
kept its word. This is the song Schubert made of the poem : 

[Record of " Hedge Roses."] 

So you see that almost everything made Franz Schubert 
think of music. He wrote many, many songs and much 
other music, and although it is almost a hundred years since 
he died, his name and his works will live as long as men love 
melody. The greatest singers in the world use his songs over 
and over because rich and poor alike love them, and when- 
ever singers want to be very sure of pleasing they sing some 
of the songs of him who was once a boy in old Vienna, Franz 
Schubert. 



94 Educating by Story-Telling 

Sources of Material to Awaken an Appreciation of 

Music 

Barber : Wagner Opera Stories. ^ 

Bender: Some Great Opera Stories (General Operas). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap: Pan and His Pipes and Other Stories; 

Boyhood Stories of Famous Men. 
Ghapin, Anna Alice: The Heart of Music; Makers of Song; Stories 

of the Wagner Operas; The Story of the Rhinegold. 
Growest, Frederick James : The Life of Verdi. 
Dole, Nathan Haskell : A Score of Famous Composers. 
DuTTON GoMPANY : The Master Musician Series. 
Fryberger, Agnes : Listening Lessons in Music. 
Guerber, Helene a. : Stories of the Wagner Operas. 
Hensel, Sebastian : The History of the Mendelssohn Family. 
Liszt, Franz : Life of Chopin. 

Pictures to Use in Telling Musical Stories 

Beyschlag : Orpheus and Eurydice. 

BoRCKMAN : Mozart and His Sisters before Maria Theresa ; Beethoven 

and the Rusmnowsky Quartette. 
Garlo Dolci : St. Gecilia at the Organ. 
Duncan : Story of Minstrelsy. 
GiULio Romano : Apollo and the Muses. 
Hamman : Mozart at Vienna ; Preludes of Bach ; Haydn Crossing the 

English Ghannel ; Handel and George I of England. 
Harpfer : Mozart at the Organ. 
Leydendecker : Beethoven at Bonn. 
Merle : Beethoven at the House of Mozart. 
Rosenthal : Morning Prayers in the Family of Bach. 
ScHLOESSER : BeethovBU in His Study. 
Schneider : Mozart and His Sister. 
Shields : Mozart Singing His Requiem. 
Portraits of all the great musicians.^ 

* Brown, Perry, or Gosmos Pictures, or they may be obtained from 
Victor Talking Machine Gompany, especially the hving artists. 



i 



CHAPTER TEN 

Story-Telling to Awaken an Appreciation of 

Art 

THE child who is surrounded by good pictures 
from his earhest years grows to love good 
pictures, and gaudily colored, cheap ones have no 
charm for him. His taste has been formed for the 
fine and true, and nothing else will satisfy him. To 
behold a beautiful painting gives him pleasure, while 
to see a glaring chromo produces an unpleasant sensa- 
tion. This is not because he is different by nature 
from one to whom masterpieces have no meaning, 
but because he has learned to know them. 

Here again we have one of the striking differences 
between the average American and the average Euro- 
pean. The Italian, French, Austrian, or German 
laborer sees masterpieces from infancy. His eeu'liest 
recollection of rehgious worship is associated with 
them. Every continental town has its art gallery or 
picture exhibit, and on certain days there is no admis- 
sion fee. The laborer avails himself of this oppor- 
tunity. On Sunday, when he is free from toil, he 
makes a festival of the occasion and takes his family 
to some park or place of amusement, and very fre- 
quently the jaunt includes a trip to the picture gallery. 
Consequently, even the children of those lands have a 
knowledge of the masterpieces of art far surpassing 
that of the average adult American. 

In most respects the Italian street gamin does not 
differ from the guttersnipe of our own land, but in one 

95 



96 Educating by Story-Telling 

he is vastly his superior. He knows the free days at 
the galleries as well as he knows the alleys of his native 
town, and is a Uberal patron of such places on those 
occasions. I once made the acquaintance of a little 
chap in Rome who was an excellent guide. He piloted 
me among the treasures of the Vatican with the ease 
and security that bespeaks thorough knowledge, for 
he had been there so often that he knew in just which 
rooms or alcoves to find his favorites. He knew 
much of the artists, too, of their lives and times, their 
discouragements and successes. Yet this Roman street 
boy was no exception to his class. Along the Piazza 
di Spagna, in fact, on any of the highways, are dozens 
like him, rich in knowledge of the statues and fountains 
that glorify the streets and parks of the Holy City. 
The names of Brunelleschi, Michelangelo, Fra Angelico, 
Giotto, and those other men who built or carved or 
painted with marvelous power, are fraught with mean- 
ing to them, and it is not strange that it should be 
so. Children in Italy have grown up among beautiful 
things. For centuries beauty has been almost a religion 
to this joy-loving, sun-loving race, and the country 
of the Apennines, as Francis Hopkinson Smith says, is 
the one place in the world where a song or a sunset is 
worth more than a soldo. Consequently, the Italians 
are a nation of art lovers. Each individual regards the 
masterpieces as his property, and the reason the 
Italian people hate the memory of Napoleon is not 
only that he conquered parts of their land, but that 
he robbed Italy of some of her art treasures. These 
were things they and their fathers had seen and loved, 
and they could not forgive the vandal who carried 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Art 97 

them away, even after the wound left by the victor 
had ceased to rankle. 

Here in America we have not had the opportunity 
of the average European, but already we have made 
a begiiming, and we now possess a number of art 
galleries that deserve the name. At the present 
time these are found only in the large cities, but they 
are helping to form national standards. Meanwhile 
every worker with children ought to try to lead those 
intrusted to his care to a knowledge and appreciation 
of great pictures. 

It is not enough to place reproductions of master- 
pieces in schools and homes and say nothing about 
them. If children are to have an appreciation of 
them, they must be led to see their beauty, to under- 
stand what they mean, to have some idea of the in- 
finite patience and labor that made their creation 
possible. The child of an artistic bent will observe 
and study them without aid or guidance and uncon- 
sciously grow into loving them, because beauty in any 
form attracts him as a magnet draws a bar of steel. 
But teachers and parents do not work solely with bud- 
ding genius, and in the great scheme of human ad- 
vancement it may mean as much for many average 
children to appreciate and love art, as for one who is 
gifted to reach immortal heights of achievement. The 
average child must be led and directed. His interest 
must be aroused before we can hope to mold liis taste 
as we would have it molded. He must be taught to 
see that a Gainsborough is more beautiful than an 
advertising chromo, that a face by Raphael is the 
expression of an inspiration that is almost divine. 



98 Educating by Story-Telling 

Only through an association that gives pleasure will 
he come to see and appreciate, and here again story- 
telling can work wonders, because through it we can 
intensify a child's delight in a picture. 

In the field of art the biographical tale is of im- 
measurable value, for the story of an artist's life, 
illustrated by reproductions of his works, can be made 
the pathway to appreciation. 

In establishing standards of art appreciation, as 
well as those of music, we must not lose sight of the 
story interests of childhood, because many a picture 
that is a great artistic achievement is not suitable 
to present to little children. The "Venus and Cupid" 
of Velasquez is a glorious masterpiece, but we cannot 
expect little folk to admire it any more than we can 
expect those in the rhythmic period to listen to a King 
Arthur story and ask to hear it again. As the little 
child does not know Venus and Cupid, a portrayal 
of them means nothing to him. But he does know 
horses and dogs and cats. He knows other children 
and babies and mothers, and therefore he enjoys 
pictures of animal and child life and will be interested 
in hearing about their portrayers. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds is an excellent artist to begin 
with, because his best work is built around themes 
dear to the heart of childhood. His "Age of 
Innocence," "Infant Samuel," "Robinetta," "Heads 
of Angels," "Simplicity," and "The Strawberry Girl" 
are ideal works to present to the small child, and this 
painter's early years make a charming story. 

Sir Edwin Landseer is another artist with whom we 
can acquaint httle children, through the following 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Art 99 

works: "Uncle Tom and His Wife for Sale," "Low 
Life and High Life," "Dignity and Impudence," "A 
Distinguished Member of the Humane Society," "The 
Sick Monkey," "King Charles Spaniels," and many 
other paintings, all of which will be loved by children 
because they love the subjects. 

Rosa Bonheur and her paintings should be used in 
this period. Children are especially fond of "The 
Horse Fair," "Coming from the Fair," "Brittany 
Sheep," "Highland Cattle," and "A Norman Sire." 
In fact, everything this painter created, like aU the 
work of Landseer, is fraught with interest to the 
child, because she was solely a portrayer of animal 
life. 

An artist of whom httle folk have been taught almost 
nothing is Gainsborough. Usually we think of him 
only as "a portrait painter, because in America his 
likenesses of women are better known than his other 
pictures. But it is a mistake to associate him only 
with "the dashing, smashing hats worn by the Duchess 
of Devonshire." Until recently only Americans who 
had traveled in England had an opportunity of seeing 
or knowing the greater part of this artist's other work, 
because the British copyright law protected much of 
it in such a way that cheap prints could not be made. 
Now, however, it is possible to get good reproductions 
of these long-protected Gainsboroughs at a very 
reasonable price. Most valuable of the works of this 
artist to use with little children are the following : 
"The Market Cart," "The Watering Place," "Two 
Dogs," "Rustic Children," and "Study of an Old 
Horse." 



100 ' Educating by Story-Telling 

MutlUo is an ideal painter to introduce to the little 
child, because his childhood story is as fascinating 
as his creations are glorious. Children never tire of 
hearing about this joyous little Spanish boy, and of 
the time when he transformed the family picture, 
turning the halo of the Christ-child into a gorgeous 
sombrero, and making a dog of the sheep. As they 
laugh or sympathize with the wonder child of Seville 
and feel something of the charm of life in that old city, 
its street children, immortalized on canvas by its most 
illustrious son, become comrades because little Barto- 
lome sometimes played with them and big Bartolome 
painted them. There is a long list of this master's works 
from which to choose, but the following are particularly 
enjoyed: "Mother and Child," "The Adoration of 
the Shepherds," "St. John and the Lamb," "The 
Melon Eaters," "The Dice Players," "Beggar Boys," 
"The Good Shepherd," "The Marriage of St. Cather- 
ine," and "The Immaculate Conception." No at- 
tempt should be made to interpret the two last-named 
pictures. Familiarize little people with them and 
lead them to see their beauty, but waive all idea of 
religious symbolism until years bring maturity of 
thought and the child makes his own interpretation. 

All Madonna pictures are interesting to little chil- 
dren, so by all means acquaint them with Raphael, 
the king. Let them drink in the beauty of "The 
Sistine Madonna," "The Madonna of the Chair," 
"The Madonna of the Goldfinch," and as many others 
as can be obtained. The story of Raphael belongs 
more properly in the intermediate period than in the 
very early one, because so httle is known of this painter's 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Art 101 

Ufe before he began his career. Just tell the chil- 
dren of the little boy who lived in far-away Urbino 
long, long ago. His mother died when he was a wee 
httle fellow, and he lived alone with his father, who 
was very kind to him. Instead of playing much, 
as the other children did, he loved to sit and listen 
to stories about saints and good people who lived 
before his time. He loved to draw pictures, too, 
and when he grew to be a man he became a wonder- 
ful painter. 

Closely following Raphael may come Correggio, 
through his "Holy Night," "Repose in Egypt," and 
"Cherubs." 

Van Dyck, too, may be made famihar to httle 
children. From his works choose " Children of Charles 
I" and several details from this picture — "Baby 
Stuart," "Charles H," and "Henrietta." But pre- 
sent first the complete picture, so that when " Baby 
Stuart" is seen the children will know that it is only 
part of a painting. Many a grown person does not 
reahze that it is a detail from another work, and this 
fact should be understood by every child who sees the 
royal baby. Other works by this artist suitable to 
introduce to tiny people are "The Repose in Egypt," 
"Madonna and Child," and "The Donators." 

There are many painters whose pictures will be en- 
joyed by children of from five to eight, and the teacher 
or parent who knows art and art hterature can choose 
for himself, keeping always in mind the story interests. 
To those who have little or no knowledge of art, yet 
who want to lead children along this path, the follow- 
ing list will be helpful : 



102 Educating by Story-Telling 

Artists and Paintings That Can Be Presented to 
Young Children through the Story-Telling Method 

Ax)AM : Kittens ; Wide Awake ; The Hungry Quartette ; In the Bou- 
doir. 
Botticelli : Adoration of the Magi ; The Holy Family. 
BouGUEREAU : Virgin and Angels ; Virgin, Infant Jesus, and St. John ; 

Going Home from School ; The Flight into Egypt. 
Delaroche : The Finding of Moses ; Children of Edward IV. 
Greuze : The Broken Pitcher ; Innocence : Head of Girl with Apple. 
Herring : Pharaoh's Horses ; Three Members of the Temperance 

Society ; The Village Blacksmith ; Farmyard. 
ViGEE Lebrun: Marie Antoinette and Children; Girl with Muff; 

Mother and Daughter. 
Millet: Feeding the Hens; Feeding Her Birds; The First Step; 

Feeding the NestUngs. 
LucA DELLA RoBBiA : Singing Boys ; Trumpeters and Dancing Boys ; 

Dancing Boys with Cymbals ; Children Dancing to Fife and Tam- 

bor; Madonna, Child, and Saints. 
Rubens : Portrait of his Wife and Children ; The Holy Family ; 

Infant Christ, St. John, and Angels; The Virgin under an Apple 

Tree ; The Adoration of the Magi. 

Children of the intermediate period enjoy the works 
of the great landscape painters, Claude Lorrain, 
Corot, Breton, and others who portrayed the woods 
and fields, especially when they know something of 
the childhood of these men. In this period, too, they 
should become better acquainted with some of the 
artists they have already met. Add to the interest 
previously created in Raphael by taking up such works 
as "Madonna of the Fish," "Madonna of the Well," 
and "Madonna of the Diadem." In telling the story 
of his hfe use Ouida's beautiful tale, "The Child of 
Urbino," which is so exquisitely told that there is 
nothing lovelier in literature. Show the children his 
portrait of himself, his "St. Catherine," "St. Cecilia," 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Art 103 

"St. John in the Desert," "Peter and John at the 
Beautiful Gate," and "The Miraculous Draught of 
Fishes." 

Add to the interest already created in Rubens by 
taking up his "Portrait of Himself," "The Flight of 
Lot," and the paintings illustrating the life of Maria 
de' Medici. 

Pictures representing the Crucifixion, the Descent 
from the Cross, and the Entombment, no matter how 
glorious they may be as works of art, should not be 
presented to children. They are too highly rehgious 
for children's understanding, and the tragedy por- 
trayed in them should not enter into childhood. The 
Madonnas and Holy Families may be used freely, 
because they portray dear and familiar characters 
and are saturated with an atmosphere of happiness 
that gladdens the child. 

The following list will aid those who are not con- 
noisseurs : 

Artists and Paintings for Children of the 
Intermediate Period 

Jules Breton : Song of the Lark ; The Gleaners ; The Reapers ; The 
Weeders ; The Recall of the Gleaners ; Blessing the Wheat ; The 
Vintagers ; The End of Labor. 

Jacques : The Sheepfold ; Pasturage in the Forest ; Shepherd and 
Sheep. 

Millet: The Sower; The Gleaners; The Angelas; The Grafter; 
Sheep Shearing; Potato Planting; Bundhng Wheat; Return- 
ing to the Farm; Shepherdess Knitting; Woman Churning; 
Labor. 

There is a twofold reason for introducing children 
to such painters as Millet, Breton, and Jacques. 



104 Educating by Story-Telling 

Besides giving them a knowledge of the works of the 
artists in question and adding to their appreciation 
of the beautiful, it will dignify labor in their eyes to 
learn that it inspired these great creators. If leaders 
of the "back to the land" movement would make 
free use of the art of the world among children, if 
during the years when impressions made are deep and 
lasting they would tell stories and show pictures that 
have been inspired by toilers in the fields, a sentiment 
would be created that would tell in results, because 
of boys and girls having learned to respect those who 
till the soil and work with their hands. 

Artists and Paintings That Lead to Appreciation of 
THE Beautiful and to Respect for Labor 

CoROT : Dance of the Children ; Dance of Nymphs ; Landscape with 

Willows ; Paysage ; Pond of Ville d'Avray ; The Lake. 
Rembrandt : Portrait of Himself ; Portrait of His Mother ; The Mill ; 

The Burgomasters. 
Troyon: Return to the Farm; Going to Work; Landscape with 

Sheep. 
Van Dyck (Add to interest already aroused) : Henrietta Maria, Wife 

of Charles I ; WiUiam of Orange and Mary Stuart ; Equestrian 

Portrait of Charles I ; Portrait of Charles I with Groom and Horse. 
Velazquez: Portrait of Himself; The Tapestry Weavers; Prince 

Balthazar; The Lancers; Equestrian Portrait of Phihp IV; 

Infanta Maria Theresa. 

When children reach the period during which they 
crave the heroic, when they are eager for the great 
epic stories, give them the great paintings that por- 
tray epic and mythological subjects. The following 
list contains names of artists and works that children 
in this stage will enjoy : 



Story-Telling and Appreciation of Art 105 
Artists and Paintings for the Heroic and Epic Periods 

Alma-Tadema : Sappho ; Reading from Homer. 

BuRNE- Jones : The Golden Stair ; The First Day of Creation ; Second 
Day of Creation ; Third Day of Creation ; Fourth Day of Creation ; 
Fifth Day of Creation ; Sixth Day of Creation ; Hope ; Circe ; En- 
chantment of MerUn ; King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid ; The 
Furies. 

Leighton : Helen of Troy ; Captive Andromache ; Greek Girls Play- 
ing Ball. 

Michelangelo : David ; Moses ; Saul ; The Three Fates ; Jeremiah ; 
Ezekiel ; Zachariah ; Isaiah ; Daniel ; Jonas ; The Delphic 
Sibyl ; The Cumsean Sibyl ; The Libyan Sibyl. 

Raphael : St. George and the Dragon. 

GuiDO Reni : Jesus and John ; St. Michael and the Dragon ; Aurora ; 
Beatrice Cenci ; St. Sebastian ; The Annunciation ; L'Adorata. 

RossETTi : The Sea Spell ; The Blessed Damozel ; Ancilla Domini. 

Andrea del Sarto : John the Baptist ; Virgin in Glory ; St. Agnes ; 
Charity. 

Tintoretto : The Forge of Vulcan ; Marriage at Cana ; Paradise ; 
Paolo Veronese ; Feast at House of Simon ; Feast at House of 
Levi ; Europa and Jupiter. 

Titian : John the Baptist ; Tribute Money ; Titian's Daughter La- 
vinia ; Flora ; Head of Venus. 

Turner {Mythological) : Apollo and the Python ; Jason in Search of 
the Golden Fleece ; The Goddess of Discord ; Dido Building 
Carthage ; Ulysses Deriding Polyphemus. (Historical) : Prince 
of Orange ; The Death of Nelson ; Boat's Crew Recovering an 
Anchor ; Hannibal and Army Crossing the Alps ; The Field of 
Waterloo ; Agrippina Landing with the Ashes of Germanicus ; 
The Fighting Temeraire. 

Watts : Sir Galahad ; Orpheus and Eurydice ; Endymion. 

General Bibliography of Art Story Material 

Bacon, Mary S. H. : Pictures That Every Child Should Know. 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap : Boyhood Stories of Famous Men. 
Collmann, Sophie Marie : Art Talks with Young Folks. 
De la Ramee, Louise : Child of Urbino {"Bimbi" Stories). 
Ennis, Luna May : Music in Art. 
Hartmann, Sadakichi : Japanese Art. 



106 ' Educating by Story-Telling 

HoRNE, Olive B., and Scobey, Kathrine L. : Stories of Great Artists. 

HouRTiCQ, Louis : Art in France. 

HuRLL, EsTELLE M. : The Madonna in Art. 

Menefee, Maud : Child Stories from the Masters. 

SwEETSER, M. F. : Artist Biographies: Raphael and Leonardo, Angela 
and Titian, Claude Lorrain and Reynolds, Turner and Landseer, 
Durer and Rembrandt, Van Dyck and Angelico, Murillo and Allston. 

Vasari, Giorgio : Lives of the Italian Painters, Sculptors, and Archi- 
tects. 

Waters, Clara Erskine: Saints in Art; Stories of Art and Artists. 



Sources for Moderate-Priced Reproductions of 
Masterpieces 

The Brown Pictures, Milton Bradley Company, Springfield, Mass. ; 
Emery School Art Company, Boston, Mass. ; Maison Braun et Cie., 
New York, N.Y. ; Frederick A. Stokes Company, New York, N.Y. 
(has American rights to many pictm-es) ; The Perry Pictures, Maiden, 
Mass. ; The Prang Company, New York, N.Y. ; The University 
Prints, Boston, Mass. 



CHAPTER ELEVEN 
Dramatization 

CONTEMPORANEOUS with what may be termed 
a renaissance in story-telhng is a strong senti- 
ment in favor of dramatization. Cliild leaders have 
observed that children dramatize spontaneously, and 
that after they have heard a tale they often play it 
without suggestion from an older person. They im- 
personate the characters, crudely perhaps, but they 
represent the action and portray the story as they 
understand it. 

This they do because the dramatic instinct is a uni- 
versal instinct. We are all born imitators, and we like 
to experience the feelings and experiences of others. 
That is why the httle girl impersonates her mother 
and takes dehght in dressing in grown-up attire and 
playing lady. It is what actuates the boy to play 
Indian or soldier or fireman. He wants to live through 
the experiences of Indians and soldiers and firemen ; so 
he goes into the world of make-believe and acts the 
part. During that time he is a larger and a different 
personality. He is not a httle boy who must go to 
bed before he wants to, and must stay inside the yard 
when he longs to be out on the highway ; he is a grown 
man in a uniform dashing along on an engine ; he is 
a mighty chief in feathers and war paint, leading his 
tribe against the enemy or speaking words of wisdom 
around the council fire. 

There was a time when this sort of play was believed 
to be of no value beyond that of a romp that helped 
to stretch the muscles, but today there is a very dif- 

107 



108 Educating by Story-Telling 

ferent attitude toward it. Close observation of children 
and a more general knowledge of psychology have 
brought educators to reahze that imitative play is a big 
factor in mental development. As the boy imper- 
sonates a fireman or Indian he must choose move- 
ments in keeping with the part and reject those not in 
keeping with it. He must select and evaluate, and in 
doing this he is acquiring a power of discrimination that 
will be of great value to him later. 

The childhood of many famous men of the past was 
distinguished by an unusual amount of imitative play, 
a free expression of the dramatic instinct. Goethe, in 
his memories, speaks lovingly of his early years thus : 

From my father I have my stature, 

My earnest aim in living ; 
From little mother, my joyous nature, 

My love of story weaving. 

Continuing, he tells of the tales he heard, and what 
they meant to him as he played them : 

Sometimes I was a prince and sometimes a peasant. Now 
I was rewarded for being a bountiful and considerate king, 
then punished according to the deserts of a wicked and 
revengeful giant ; and always as I played these parts I was 
learning the unchangeable laws of life. 

What Goethe learned through acting tales his mother 
told him, the child of today is learning as he drama- 
tizes stories, although not always in as great a measure 
as was learned by the author of Faust and Werther. 
But he is learning according to his ability and within 
his hmitations. When he has played the part, the 



Dramatization 109 

laws involved in it become fixed principles with him, 
and a big step is taken in the direction of his moral 
training. Because of a growing recognition of this 
truth the present strong interest in dramatization in 
schools is becoming general throughout the country. 
Teachers are beginning to realize that they can give 
no more eloquent sermon on truthtelling than to tell 
the story of " The Boy Who Cried Wolf," and then 
let the children dramatize it. There is no more ef- 
fective means of giving a lesson in contentment than 
presenting the tale of the pig who thought liis life hard 
and leading the boys and girls to play it. 

Therefore it follows that dramatization should be 
encouraged, and to be most far-reaching in its results, 
it should be done by means of story-teUing, because by 
proceeding from the story to the action the child creates 
the play and makes it his own. 

There are many books of plays for children, carefully 
written and adapted to their interests in word, style, 
and theme. But such plays do not mean as much to the 
child as those he makes for himself. They are not 
as much his own, and consequently they contribute 
less toward his growth and development. 

The natural way is for the child to hear the story and 
then act it. Therefore every story-teller should have 
in his possession a number of tales with dramatic possi- 
bilities. He should tell one of these vividly and dra- 
matically, using much dialogue, and then, while it is 
still fresh in the minds of the children, encourage 
them to play it. It is well to use the published plays 
also, because there are many excellent ones, but the 
narrator should read them over, get the plot, and tell 



110 Educating by Story-Telling 

the story, before putting them into the hands of the 
cliildren. 

Shall dialogue be dictated by the story-teller and the 
children drilled in their parts? No. Conversation 
used in telhng the tale will suggest to the children 
what to say, and they will make up their own parts. 
They must be led and directed, but help from the 
teacher or leader should be given in such a way that the 
children feel they are making the play themselves. 
Help them by questions that will lead them to think 
and act instead of telling them what to do and say. 

Suppose " The Pied Piper of Hamelin" is to be dram- 
atized. After the story has been told, say to the 
children, "Do you want to play it?" Of course 
they will want to. Then, by questioning, lead them 
to constructive effort. 

How many people shall we need ? Immediately the 
answers will come, and as the different characters are 
named make a list, thus getting the cast. Who can 
be the mayor, members of the council, the piper, rats, 
mothers and fathers, lame boy, etc. ? 

There will be two divisions, those who are forward, 
eager to take a prominent part, and the shy, retir- 
ing ones who will not offer. This latter group must 
not be ignored, and to draw its members into the work 
requires much tact. Sometimes when it is impossible 
to get a child to take a speaking part, he can be en- 
couraged to be one of a group of " supers," as they are 
called on the professional stage, because although he 
lacks the confidence necessary to make him lift his 
voice, his diffidence vanishes in doing pantomime with 
a number of other cliildren. He will be a rat or a 



Dramatization 111 

citizen when he cannot be coaxed or driven into being 
the piper, and after many pantomime performances 
he gains the confidence in himself that enables him to 
take a speaking part^ 

One of the difficulties incident to dramatization in the 
schoolroom is that the same children always clamor to 
take the star parts, and sometimes sulk if not per- 
mitted to do so, or sneer at the efforts of others. This 
situation must be met as any other problem in discipline 
is met, by skill on the part of the teacher and by incul- 
cating a sense of fairness and courtesy that holds selfish- 
ness in check. Lead the child to see that what gives 
him pleasure gives some one else pleasure also, and 
that it is the right of each member of the class to expe- 
rience that pleasure. Once the boy or girl realizes that 
well-bred people are considerate and do not deride the 
efforts of others, no matter how imperfect their achieve- 
ment inay be, the dramatization period loses its greatest 
bugbear and shy children do not hesitate to take part 
because of fear that they will be laughed at. This 
result caimot be brought about instantly, but persist- 
ence and tact will finally accomplish it. 

Do not be discouraged because it seems that some of 
the shy or less capable children will never take a speak- 
ing part. Sometimes even after they perform in pan- 
tomime they still hang back and will speak only in 
chorus. But this last is at least a step in the desired 
direction. Keep working them in groups, and grad- 
ually from group speaking they will advance to indi- 
vidual speaking. Sometimes this process is slow and 
discouraging, but the teacher should remember that 
mental development is never a mushroom growth, 



112 Educating by Story-Telling 

and that great achievement is not wrought in a day. 
The marble block yields so slowly to the shaping of the 
sculptor's chisel that sometimes it seems it never will 
take the form he visions for it, but ceaseless effort 
always brings results. So it is with the teacher in 
molding human material. Results are sure to come if 
persistence and patience are unflagging and faith is 
deep and strong. It is worth much for a shy, self- 
conscious child to grow to the point where he can lose 
himself in the role of a play, and no matter how crudely 
he does it, he should be encouraged and given frequent 
opportunities to express himself, because as a means of 
self-development his crude performance is of as much 
value as the artistic one of the talented child, although 
it may be less enjoyable to spectators. 

With Uttle children especially, it is desirable to use 
some play whose cast will include every member of the 
class. It gives the eager child a chance to be "in it," 
as children say, and makes it easier to draw the dif- 
fident child to participate, because he wants to do what 
all the others are doing. "The Pied Piper" is ideal 
for this, because of the flexibility of groups. There can 
be enough rats, parents, children, or council members 
to include twenty or forty children, and the larger the 
groups the more intense the interest. 

After the cast is decided upon, plan the scenes, again 
by questioning the children. What is the first thing to 
be done and where is it done ? Thus, by question and 
suggestion, work up the lines. In other words, have 
the children create the parts themselves and they will 
play them spontaneously. The production may not be 
highly artistic, but it will have greater educational 



Dramatization 113 

value than one worked out by an adult and merely 
acted by the children. After it has been created in this 
way it may be put into finished permanent form. 
Little children may practice it until they memorize 
the lines, while those in the grammar grades may 
write parts, thus making a play that can be used many 
times. This sort of work is ver^ valuable, and may 
form a composition or language exercise that will be 
enjoyed by the class. 

Another method is to have the various members sug- 
gest lines to be spoken by the different characters and 
choose the best for the play. Sometimes a child who 
does little in the usual composition work and never 
gets a high mark, will suggest an excellent line or 
sentence, and to have it go into the play is a tremendous 
joy to him, especially if he doubts his own ability. 
Another plan that makes the class interest keen, is for 
each inember to plan or write a scene, and without the 
members knowing the authorship of the various papers, 
have them read, and select the best by vote, whereupon 
the name of the writer is revealed. Tliis method can 
be used in writing parts for one character or for all the 
characters, and in several other ways that will be of 
much value to the children. 

Of course the teacher or leader must be the guiding 
spirit, because a well-built, correctly proportioned plot 
is necessary. But her suggestion should be chiefly 
by way of question, leaving the children to feel that they, 
and not the instructor, are doing the work, although in 
reality the teacher's judgment is the foundation upon 
which the structure stands, and she must use it in build- 
ing the play just as she uses it in telling the story. 



114 Educating by Story-Telling 

For little people there are many stories with dramatic 
possibihties, some of which may be acted wholly in 
pantomime, some with combined pantomime and 
spoken parts, and others entirely of spoken parts. 
In working with foreign children it is well to begin with 
pantomime plays, as the child who knows he cannot 
express himself easily in English will always balk at 
taking a speaking part. Some of ^sop's fables lend 
themselves particularly weU to pantomime, especially 
" The Lion and the Mouse," "The Fox and the Grapes," 
"The Dog and His Shadow," and "The Hare and the 
Tortoise." The Dramatic Festival, by Craig, and Fes- 
tivals and Plays, by Chubb, give valuable suggestions 
for pantomime work, as well as a list of plays adapted 
to it, and the worker with older children will also find 
these books to be excellent guides. 

There is an equally large amount of material for dra- 
matic work with older children. Hiawatha never fails 
to delight fourth and fifth grade boys and girls. Robin 
Hood in dramatic form is loved even more than in story, 
as are some of the exploits of King Arthur and his 
knights and of PwyU, the hero of the Mabinogion. Any 
of these tales may be carried out simply or may be 
worked into elaborate performances with costumes and 
stage settings. If the latter be the choice, much pleas- 
ure and useful experience will come to the children 
through making the properties. Any boy who can 
whittle can fashion spears and swords, and gold and 
silver paper is wonderfully effective in supplying 
glitter. Does a knight need colored hose to be in keep- 
ing with his doublet? Let him borrow a pair of his 
mother's or sister's white ones and coat them with 



Dramatization 115 

blackboard crayon of the desired hue. One laundering 
will make them spotless again, and there is no outlay of 
money for something that must be discarded at the end 
of the performance. Helmets, shields, and pilgrim 
hats can be made by the manual- training boys, and 
girls in the domestic-science class will enjoy sewing the 
costumes. 

L.The teacher in the ungraded school is particularly 
fortunate in opportunities for this kind of work, because 
she can correlate it with other subjects in ways that 
workers in schools using the departmentsil system can- 
not do. One country teacher had her eighth-grade 
history class give a pageant portraying the French ex- 
ploration in the Mississippi Valley. The class devoted 
a term to the preparation ; the subject was made the 
nucleus of their reading, language, history, and manual 
work, and the results were most gratifying. Boys 
who never had written a readable paper did some 
astonishingly good work in composition because of 
their interest in the play and their desire to con- 
tribute to it, and the standard of class scholarship 
was raised, to say nothing of the joy the children 
derived from it. 

Many other historical subjects are equally rich in 
possibilities. The Spanish exploration in Florida, the 
Dutch in New York, the Spanish settlement of Cali- 
fornia, the framing and adoption of the Declaration of 
Independence, John Smith and Pocahontas, Ponce de 
Leon seeking the fountain of youth, the story of Colum- 
bus, and many similar themes afford good opportu- 
nities for class play-making and correlation of school 
subjects. 



116 Educating by Story-Telling 

Sometimes a picture will suggest an entire scene in a 
dramatization, or even an entire play ; the following 
are especially good for tliis purpose : 

Bacon : The Burial of Miles Standish. 

Balaca : Departure of Columbus from Palos. 

BouGHTON : Pilgrims Going to Church ; Pilgrim Exiles ; The Return 

of the Mayflower ; PrisciUa. 
Kaulbach : The Pied Piper of Hamelin. 
PiLOTY : Columbus on the Deck of the Santa Maria. 
Van der Lyn : The Landing of Columbus. 

Those wishing to make a specialty of dramatization 
will find the following books helpful : 

Chubb : Festivals and Plays. • 
Craig : The Dramatic Festival. 
Curtis : The Dramatic Instinct in Education. 

The following are excellent stories for dramatic 
work with little children, and are included in so many 
books that they are available to every teacher : 

Three Billy Goats Gruff; The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids; Chicken 
Little ; The Old Woman and Her Pig ; The Pig Brother ; The 
Gingerbread Boy ; The Boy Who Cried Wolf ; The Town Musi- 
cians; Mother Goose Rhymes; The Three Bears; The Pancake; 
The Discontented Pig. 

Many others will be found in the list of story col- 
lections for children in the rhythmic period, and in the 
bibliography on the following page. 



Dramatization 117 

Bibliography of Material for Dramatization 

For Primary Grade Children 

Bell, Florence E. : Fairy Tale Plays and How to Act Them. 
Chadwick, M. L. Pratt-, and Freeman, E. Gray : Chain Stories and 

Playlets. 
NixoN-RouLET, M. F. : Fairy Tales a Child Can Read and Act. 
NoYEs, M. I., and Ray, B. H. : Little Plays for Little People. 
Perry, S. G. S. : When Mother Lets Us Act. 

Stevenson, Augusta : Children's Classics in Dramatic Form, Books 1-3. 
Wells, Carolyn : Jolly Plays for Holidays. 

For Intermediate Grade Children 

Harris, F. J. : Plays for Young People. 

SiDGWiCK, Ethel : Four Plays for Children. 

Spofford, Harriet Prescott : The Fairy Changeling. 

Stevenson, Augusta : Children's Classics in Dramatic Form, Books U-6. 

St. Nicholas Book of Operettas and Plays. 

For Grammar Grade Children 

Frank : Short Plays about Famous Authors. 
Lansing, M. F. : Quaint Old Stories to Read and Act. 
LiJTKENHAUs, A. M., and Knox, Margaret : Plays for School Children. 
RucKER and Ryan : Historical Plays of Colonial Days. 



CHAPTER TWELVE 
Bible Stories 

ONE of the glaring defects of our modern educa- 
tional system is that almost no provision is made 
for the study of the Bible as a great classic, and as a 
result boys and girls complete grammar and high-school 
courses without sufficient knowledge of the epic of the 
Hebrews to enable them to understand the world's 
best literature. The myths of Greece and Rome are 
studied because of their cultural value, yet from univer- 
sities throughout the country comes the complaint that 
many of the works of famous authors are beyond the 
enjoyment of students because the Biblical allusions 
have no meaning for them. What should be as familiar 
as "Red Riding Hood " and "Cinderella" is known in 
name only, and the immortal book is regarded as a 
repository of golden texts and maxims instead of as 
a glorious artistic creation. 

The masses of children know almost nothing of the 
story of Israel, because outside of the Sunday school 
and the exceptional home, it is rarely told. Yet edu- 
cators emphasize its need in the intellectual as well as in 
the spiritual development of the child, and declare that 
the Old Testament tales should be as much a part of 
the school curriculum as are the myths of Greece and 
Rome and the northland. Rein, the great German 
educator, advocates using them in the third and fourth 
grades to the exclusion of all others, which is done in 
the state . schools of Baden, while in America Dr. G. 
Stanley Hall pleads eloquently in behalf of Bible 
stories. 

118 



Bible Stories 119 

"To eliminate the Bible from education," says this 
famous psychologist, "is as preposterous pedagogically 
as it would have been in the days of Plato to taboo 
Homer from the education of Greek youth. It is not 
only a model of Enghsh, but it is impossible to under- 
stand the culture history of Europe without it, as it 
has influenced the literature, history, and life of Western 
nations as no other book has begun to do." 

The secular narrator, as well as the teacher of 
religion, should use the Bible tales freely, that men 
and women of the future may have a broader knowl- 
edge of literature, history, and life than they can have 
without them. This is no impossible task, even for 
the amateur, because the Biblical narratives are per- 
fect ones for telling. Nowhere else in hterature do we 
find such thrilling tales of adventure, such exquisite 
idylls, such sublime ballads, such annals of high purpose 
and noble achievement, as in the epic of Israel. No- 
where else are there more spectacular, perfectly con- 
structed plots. Ruskin said, "It would be pre- 
eminently the child's book even though it had no 
religious value above other books" ; and Dr. Fuchs of 
Vienna declares that we might, if we lacked material, 
give children nothing but Bible stories and yet satisfy 
every craving of their natures, because the Bible con- 
tains every type of tale that appeals to the child. 
From Genesis to Revelation it is an incomparable 
record of human desire, human endeavor, human failure, 
and human success. In the Old Testament we find 
myth, fairy tale, fable, romance, legend, and history, 
told in simple, elemental beauty by the Hebrew story- 
tellers, tinged with that varied color and imagery so 



120 Educating by Story-Telling 

characteristic of oriental literature and so fascinating 
to children, — stories that, as Mrs. Houghton says, 
"are the product of a child nation, and therefore very 
close to the heart of the child." 

The Old Testament, rather than the New, is the child's 
storybook, because it is the expression of a primitive 
people, and its tales picture primitive, rugged heroes 
that boys and girls can understand, whereas the second 
division of the Bible, except that portion centering 
around the childhood and boyhood of Christ, is adult 
in character. But it is a mistake to think that all Old 
Testament tales can be presented with gratifying re- 
sults. To tell the story of Ruth and Boaz to tiny tots 
would be as absurd as to give them the Decameron 
of Boccaccio or Goethe's Faust, because the characters 
and incidents are remote from their interest. In using 
material from the Bible, as from any other source, it 
is necessary to keep in mind the story interests of child- 
hood, and to remember that the skeletons of tales, not 
the style and vocabulary in which they are written, 
must be the test for selection. If the framework is 
suited to the period of mental development, the lan- 
guage can be adapted, while otherwise no amount of 
simplifying can bring it within the understanding and 
powers of enjoyment. 

The Old Testament is particularly rich in stories for 
children, because it was formulated in a period when the 
Hebrew nation was a child nation. The men and 
women of Israel were grown to adult stature, but they 
had the hearts of children. They thought concretely, 
as the child thinks, and consequently their literary 
expression is concrete and illustrative. This, added to 



Bible Stories 121 

the facts that they, hke all other orientals, loved the 
story and brought it to a high artistic point, and that the 
Old Testament heroes are not refined to the point of 
sestheticism, but are strong, rugged, elemental men, 
thoroughly human and far removed from goody- 
goodies, makes it an ideal book for the child. Gideon 
and Joshua possess virtues, but they possess faults also. 
They are punished and they are rewarded, and because 
they have much in common with children, the lessons 
learned through their victories and defeats are more 
valuable than a thousand admonitions. 

In advocating the use of Bible stories a word of 
caution seems necessary, lest the narrator, actuated 
by the laudable desire to enrich the intellectual and 
spiritual life of the child, may harm instead of benefit. 
The Hebrew people were in a state of advanced bar- 
barism when their tribal achievements grew into an 
epic, and the deeds of their heroes are often so blood- 
thirsty and revengeful that they cannot be reconciled 
with modern views. Boys and girls are quick to 
realize this, and consequently many of the Old Testa- 
ment tales must be softened by the elimination of 
objectionable features, just as many fairy and epical 
tales must be softened. 

Nor are gore and revenge the only elements we must 
cut away from these old tales. Those who give the 
narrative of Israel to boys and girls of twelve and 
fourteen should be careful to eliminate from it every- 
tliing that may be suggestive of the vulgar, for which, 
at this age, many children are on the lookout. It is 
better to omit than to veil and modify questionable 
portions of a tale, because young people are very dis- 



122 Educating by Story-Telling 

cerning, and to see through gossamer is to arouse 
curiosity. Dr. Bodley cites instances of youths in the 
romantic period reading the Bible because of lewd 
thoughts. This danger leads some persons to decry 
the use of Bible stories by the average narrator, in 
whose hands they beheve them to be dangerous. 
However, if he uses judgment, if he makes it a rule 
to omit whatever awakens a doubt in his mind, even 
the amatem- may tell Bible stories with beneficial 
results. It is possible to ehminate from many an 
Old Testament narrative without breaking the thread 
of the story, just as it is possible to give boys and girls 
a clear idea of the man Chopin without introducing 
the George Sand episode. So much of the Old Testa- 
ment is pure adventure tale that the story-teller may 
use the portion that feeds the elemental hero love 
without touching upon what might arouse morbid 
curiosity or desire, or that which sanctions gore and 
revenge. 

Those who have not had training in gathering and 
adapting story material from the Bible will be aided 
greatly in their work by Frances Jenkins Olcott's 
book, Bible Stories to Read and Tell. Miss Olcott gives 
the stories as they are given in the King James Version, 
preserving all the beauty of language of the Hebrew 
story-tellers, but she has excluded everything that 
might prove objectionable; and with this book as a 
guide there is little danger of making a mistake in 
telling the Hebrew hero tales to children. 

Bible stories should be graded as carefully as fairy 
stories are graded. In choosing for little children, select 
those whose heroes are children, and give to the boy 



Bible Stones 123 

who craves the heroic the incomparable tales of the 
Hebrew wanderers, those men whose lives were a varied 
succession of adventures. For the child of each period 
there is a wealth of material. The stories of the baby 
Moses, little Samuel, the boy Joseph, the boy Timothy, 
the boy David, and the baby Isaac are very appealing 
to six- and seven-year-olds. They love also to hear of 
the mother and the baby Samson, of Ishmael and Hagar, 
and those other mothers and babies of long ago, and 
especially dear to them is the story of the Babe of Beth- 
lehem. This lovely neurative is a part of the birth- 
right of every child, and is exquisite enough to merit 
careful preparation on the part of the story-teller. 
The Bible itself should be the storehouse to which the 
narrator goes for material, but those not especially 
gifted in visucJizing and imagination will derive much 
help from the work of modern hterary artists who have 
told again the story of the Christ Cliild. The eleventh 
and twelfth chapters of the first book of Ben Hur, the 
creation of a man whose reverence was as great as his 
talent, should be re-read by every one who attempts to 
tell of the song and the star in Judea, and the works of 
Henry van Dyke, Selma Lagerlof, and John of Hildes- 
heim will aid greatly in giving color and atmosphere. 
This means time and labor, but no amount of prepara- 
tion is too great to put upon the world's noblest stories. 
The narrator should approach them, not arrogantly, 
and satisfied of his ability to tell them because he has 
known them from childhood, but as the artist ap- 
proaches the masterpiece he aspires to copy, willing to 
labor that he may be worthy of the task, willing to read 
them over and over again and count each reading a 



124 Educating by Story-Telling 

return to the fount of inspiration. This should be the 
attitude toward all great stories, but especially toward 
the immortal ones of the Bible. 

For the child in the heroic period the Old Testament 
is a gold mine, and it is a pity that its superb adventure 
tales are so little used by story-tellers, since they are so 
fascinating to boys and girls. Even when told as 
separate stories they arouse interest and hold the atten- 
tion, but they are most valuable when given in a se- 
quence, because then the child regards the Old Testa- 
ment as a great human drama, the epic of a people. 

A good plan is to begin with the call of Abraham, as 
related in the twelfth chapter of Genesis. Picture the 
patriarch, with Lot and Sarah, going into exile out of 
the land of Haran, through Canaan to the plain of 
Moreh, building there the altar under the soothsayer's 
oak, and journeying southward over the desert to Egypt. 
Tell of the banishment by Pharaoh and the return to 
Bethel, of the strife between the herdsmen and the sur- 
vey of the land, of the captivity and rescue of Lot. 
Paint vividly the highway along which they traveled, 
now over the desert, now across the fertile plain skirting 
the sea, often footsore and weary, often suffering from 
heat and thirst as wanderers in the East suffered, and 
the story will cause children to turn from the cheap 
adventure tale of today as music lovers turn from 
ragtime to a Chopin prelude. 

Then there are tales of those other Old Testament 
wanderers, Isaac, "the Ulysses of the Hebrews," and 
Jacob, whose life was so eventful. Take the boys over 
the routes these men traveled. Let them share their 
exploits and adventures, resting in fertile places where 



Bible Stories 125 

the wanderers rested, now by the well outside Nahor, 
the servants praying beside the kneeling camels as 
Bethuel's lovely daughter came down the hillside with 
the pitcher on her shoulder, now moving as the caravan 
moved, over roads the Hebrew armies traveled on their 
way to war, along which tradesfolk journeyed in times of 
peace. There is marvelous color and romance in these 
Old Testament thoroughfares, and they are highways of 
fascination even today. StiU across their yellow sands 
turbaned Arabs go up and down, singing praise to Allah 
just as men sang to God in the remote time of Israel. 
They bear with them skin bags filled with water from 
the pools and streams, dates, figs, and dried goat's 
flesh, such as formed the noontide repast of Isaac and 
his men, for in the changeless East life is today as it 
was in the beginning of things. When the cEo-avans 
rest, they sit under the palm trees in some oasis, telling 
stories their fathers told, and using the Old Testament 
forms of speech. Still in that land of nomads to see 
is to "lift up the eyes," and maidens go to draw water 
when the day's heat is over just as Rebecca went to the 
well of Nahor. 

' The book of Joshua is a glorious adventure story. 
The siege and destruction of Jericho, the victories of 
Joshua, the slave boy from Egypt who became the first 
soldier of the Hebrews, the distribution of Canaan 
among the tribes of Israel, and Othniel's valor and re- 
ward satisfy every desire of the child who craves hero 
stories. They satisfy now as they satisfied two thou- 
sand years ago, because they grew out of the hfe of a 
people and run the entire gamut of human emotion as 
only racial tales can do. 



126 Educating by Story-Telling 

The book of Judges is a collection of incomparable 
narratives. The enslavement of Israel by Jabin, the 
defeat and death of Sisera, and Gideon's deliverance and 
victory never fail to hold boys and girls who crave 
the heroic. Moreover, these stories will arouse interest 
in perhaps the finest ode known to any hterature, the 
song of Deborah in the fifth chapter of Judges. Give 
the children some idea of what it has meant to the world. 
Ruskin said the memorizing of it in his boyhood shaped 
his taste for hterature, and Macaulay declared it in- 
spired him to write "Horatius at the Bridge." Read 
the work of the Enghsh poet, and bring out the lovely 
pictures in the great Hebrew ode, for it is not fair to 
our young people that we allow them to go through 
fife without knowing this gem, without leading them 
to see the beauty of these exquisite words : 

Speak, ye that ride on white asses, ye that sit in judgment 
and walk by the way. 

They that are delivered from the noise of archers in the 
places of drawing water, there shall they rehearse the right- 
eous acts of the Lord. 

Visuahze the scenes in those fines : sumptuous, 
haughty Hebrews, travefing as only the prosperous 
traveled ; men in the fine finen of lawgivers, holding 
places of power in the land ; vagabonds lounging along 
the highways, begging alms of passers-by ; husbandmen 
tilfing fields far from the sound of conflict; men in 
every walk of fife, widely separated by material condi- 
tions, yet brothers in a common weal, rejoicing in a 
common blessing, the victory of Barak over the foe of 
Israel. It is as rich in color as a canvas by Titian, and 



Bible Stories 127 

pupils in the upper grammar grades will grow to love it 
if it is presented as it should be, through the medium of 
the story. 

The books of Samuel, with their tales of Saul and of 
David, of the shepherd boy from the Hebron hills 
making music for Israel's king, his meeting and slaying 
Goliath, Saul and the Witch of Endor, and all the event- 
ful life of David are glorious materials for the story- 
teller. Here again inspiration may be obtained from 
the work of a modern writer. Browning's " Saul " will 
greatly aid the narrator in teUing the story of the boy 
David, for the picture the poet gives of the afflicted 
mon£U"ch in his tent, the son of Jesse standing beside 
him singing the Hebrew gleaning songs, is as vivid as it 
is exquisite. 

Where can we find a more splendid narrative than 
that of Solomon, in the second book of Kings ? Where 
is the boy or girl who does not dehght in listening to the 
account of the visit of Hiram, king of Tyre, when two 
sumptuous monarchs met ; of the collection of materials 
and the building of the temple ; of the visit of the Queen 
of Sheba, the adversity and death of Solomon, and 
that succession of events that led to the captivity of 
Israel ? Here, too, we find the great story of the inva- 
sion of Judah and the destruction of Sennacherib ; and 
Byron's poem will vivify this tale just as Browning's 
" Saul " vivifies that of the boy David. 

The only reason why children look upon the Bible 
as a dull, ponderous book is that they are not famihar 
with the Old Testament adventure tales, and it is a 
mistake to think that present-day boys and girls wiU 
turn away from them. If playground and settlement 



128 Educating by Story-Telling 

workers would give more time and attention to the 
stories of the Hebrews, they would have less difficulty 
in reaching hoodlumish boys. It is necessary to use 
tact in presentation, — "sense," as Lilian Bell says, 
"of the brand commonly known as horse," — for to 
preface a narrative with, "Now I shall tell you a Bible 
story," might mean an insurrection. The only way is 
to bring the hero on the stage and tell his tale so vividly 
that the listeners are held by it to the end. After they 
come to know such men as Gideon and Joshua, they 
will regard the Bible as a great storybook. 

A settlement worker had this experience not long ago. 
She told the tale of Joshua to a group of young ruffians, 
who sat through it as if held by a spell, and at its con- 
clusion the leader of the band remarked, "That was 
some story !" Other Old Testament heroes were then 
introduced with excellent effect, and the lads were 
amazed to learn that the Bible contained such stories. 
But results of this kind cannot be obtained without 
effort and preparation on the part of the raconteur. 

Bible stories, being the perfect tales of the world, 
should be told as nearly as possible in the language and 
style in which they were written. Some modification 
is necessary for the purpose of clarifying, but the Bibhcal 
expressions should be used frequently. Quote freely 
from the original or foUow the story with a Bible read- 
ing, that the child who hears the tales may catch some- 
thing of the majestic beauty of expression of the Hebrew 
story-tellers. There can be no more pitiful mistake than 
to tell these matchless narratives in the vernacular of 
the street. To use modern slang in recounting the 
wanderings of Isaac or the passing of the Children of 



Bible Stories 129 

Israel tlirough the Red Sea is to profane a marvelous 
artistic creation, even though it had no rehgious signif- 
icance, and unfortunately story-tellers sometimes do 
this, thinking they will make the tales more interesting 
to children. That sort of narration will amuse and hold 
young folk only as long as it lasts, and leaders of children 
are not working merely for the here and now. Their 
effort is for time and eternity, and they should have 
sufficient vision to see beyond the present, sufficient 
sense of proportion to estimate values. The Old 
Testament tales need no modern strokes to make them 
attractive, because they abound in color and incidents 
that lead to superb chmaxes, and never fail to fascinate 
when given with sincerity. Therefore they should be 
told in simple, dignified language, as the men of Israel 
told them when the world was young, and while they 
fire the imagination, they will lead children uncon- 
sciously to an appreciation of beautiful English, which 
is one of the cardinal aims of every story-teller who is 
worthy of the name. 

The teller of Bible stories should draw from music 
and art, as well as from hterature, because to follow a 
tale with a picture or musical number inspired by it is 
to heighten enjoyment and strengthen the impression 
already made. If children see Bendemann's master- 
piece, "By the Waters of Babylon," after they have 
heard the story of the captivity of Israel, they wiU have 
a sympathy for the exiled Hebrews that they cannot 
have otherwise. Saul, David, and many other Old 
Testament heroes will seem more than ever like hving, 
breatliing men when viewed as Michelangelo portrayed 
them, while Giulio Romano's frescoes, "The Story of 



130 Educating by Story-Telling 

Joseph," or Pellafrino da Modena's "Story of Solo- 
mon," will intensify their color and romance and help 
to lead to an appreciation of art. Cheap reproductions 
bring these and other masterpieces within the reach of 
the narrator, and he should travel every bypath in 
which he may glean materials that will help children 
to love these old tales. He should keep ever before 
him the thought of how they have enriched the world, 
and how powerfully hves are influenced by stories 
heard in childhood. When Bertel Thorwaldsen was a 
blue-eyed boy in Copenhagen, he heard a tale that long 
afterward became the inspiration of "The Lion of 
Lucerne," and young Richard Wagner, playing in a 
Dresden street one day, crept into a group to which a 
strolling bard was telling the medieval legend of "Par- 
sifal." It was a seed planted in a creative mind, and 
years afterward it flowered in two noble operas of the 
Holy Grail. So it was with Goethe, with Browning, 
with Byron, and many other great men. Perhaps in 
your group of youthful hearers there may be a boy or a 
girl who will hsten as gifted children of the past have 
Hstened to an old, old story, and perhaps your telling 
it may result, long after your work is ended, in his giving 
to some branch of art a creation that will enrich the 
world through generations yet to come. But even 
though there be no budding genius among your auditors, 
sincere, artistic telling of the Bible stories cannot fail to 
produce great results. It will develop the emotional na- 
ture of the average child ; it will broaden his sympathy 
and increase his capacity for feeling, make him more sym- 
pathetic, more responsive to the joys and sorrows of his 
fellow men, and better fitted to become a useful citizen. 



Bible Stones 131 



Sources of Material for Bible Stories 

Abbott, Lyman : Life and Literature of the Ancient Hebrews. 

Aguilar, Grace : The Women of Israel. 

Baring-Gould, S. : Lives of the Saints. 

Canton, William : A Child's Book of Saints. 

Dearmer, Mabel : A Child's Life of Christ. 

DoANE, T. W. : Bible Myths. 

FiSKE, John : The Myths of Israel; The Great Epic of Israel. 

Hodges, George : A Child's Guide to the Bible. 

Houghton, Louise S. : Telling Bible Stories; Hebrew Life and Thought. 

Kent, Charles Foster : Heroes and Crises of Early Hebrew History. 

Lagerlof, Selma : Christ Legends. 

Olcott, Frances Jenkins : Bible Stories to Read and Tell. 

Sangster, Margaret E., and Yonge, Charlotte M. : Stories from 

the Best of Books. 
Smith, George A. : A Historical Geography of the Holy Land. 
Smith, Nora A. : Old, Old Tales from the Old, Old Book. 
Van Dyke, Henry, Abbott, Lyman, and Others: Women of the 

Bible. 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
Story-Telling and the Teaching of Ethics 

THE function of education is not only to give the 
child knowledge and a capacity for acquiring 
further knowledge that shall equip him for the hfe 
struggle and make success a possible attainment, 
but also to give him an ethical standard that shall 
make him fit to live among his fellows and a respect 
for the rights and feelings of others, or, as Goethe 
says in Wilhelm Meister, "Reverence for what is above, 
reverence for what is beneath, reverence for what is 
equal." He must be taught to reahze that he is part 
of a great unit and that individual desires must often 
give way to the welfare of the many. He must be 
taught that as an individual he owes to society obe- 
dience to the laws that govern society and allegiance 
to the principles that make possible a harmonious 
family, civic, and national life. Consequently it is 
required of every teacher that she give ethical instruc- 
tion, that she endeavor to bring children to an under- 
standing of what is generally accepted as right and 
wrong, and implant in them convictions strong enough to 
cause them to adhere to those standards. 

In establishing ethical standards, as in establishing 
standards in art, literature, or music, we must appeal to 
the emotional side of the child as well as to the intel- 
lectual side. We must lead him to feel that the right 
act is the one that he wants to do, and this cannot 
be accomplished by a presentation of dry facts and 
precepts. Every teacher knows that the time spent 
in admonishing a child what he ought to do brings no 

132 



Story-Telling and Teaching of Ethics 133 

gratifying results. He is not swayed to repugnance 
for one act or to admiration for another by being 
told "Thou shalt," or " Thou shalt not. " At the time 
the command is given, fear may cause him to obey 
it; but conduct that is the result of force does not 
strengthen the character or teach high standards of 
action. It tends instead to harden the child and make 
him determined to act differently at the first oppor- 
tunity. Ethical training does not mean to attempt 
to control the child, but to enlighten him and direct 
his voKtion to the point where he wiU attempt to control 
himself. As EUa Lyman Cabot says, "Its aim is to 
make the best there is so inviting to the child that he 
will work eagerly and persistently to win it," The 
ideal that is held up to him must be so beautiful that 
he will be willing to sacrifice and endure hardship in 
order to attain to it, and through story-teUing he may 
be led" to see this ideal more vividly than in any other 
way, because the story makes right acts appeahng 
and wrong acts repugnant. Moreover, through the 
narrator's art the child lives the experiences of the tales 
he hears. He suffers with the evildoer and is rewarded 
with the virtuous, and because he is powerfully moved 
by a narrative, his character is lastingly affected by it. 
In giving ethical instruction, it is necessary to use 
the right material. Tales selected for this purpose 
should be suited to the child's particular period of 
mental development, they should contain a lesson the 
boy or the girl ought to learn, and they should be strong 
and virile and true to hfe. Much harm is done by tell- 
ing stories of unusually good children. Such young 
folk are unpopular with boys and girls, and the story 



134 Educating by Story-Telling 

about them is as distasteful as is the "goody-goody** 
that is met with in real hfe. Instead of being an 
influence toward commendable action and the ac- 
ceptance of a higher standard of right and wrong, the 
over-ideahstic tale antagonizes the child and goads 
him toward that from which we would have him 
veer aside. Perhaps this accounts for the fact that 
girls often enjoy boys' stories more than those written 
especially for girls. The normal girl wants to read 
and hear about live, natural young folk, and the heroine 
who has drawing-room manners and nothing else is 
very fco* from her ideal. Story characters that in- 
fluence children must be human, full of human faults 
and virtues. From their failures and successes young 
people wiU learn many valuable lessons, but they will 
learn no lesson from one who poses as an unnatural 
young saint. 

Moral training should begin with the babe, and there- 
fore the mother and primary teacher need stories that 
have ethical values as early as they need Mother Goose 
tales and jingles. Very early in life the child must 
be brought to realize that there is a higher law than 
that of its own will or desire. It must be taught 
obedience, cleanliness, kindness to animals, con- 
sideration for the rights of others, truthfulness, indus- 
try, honesty, and courtesy, and these lessons can be 
inculcated more effectively by means of story-telling 
than in any other way. The tale of "The Little Red 
Hen" doing the work and reaping the reward of her 
labor is a sermon on industry that little people do not 
forget. The story of the farmer boy who roUed the 
stone out of the highway because he feared it might 



Story-Telling and Teaching of Ethics 135 

cause injury to some one, and then of the compensation 
that came to him at the hands of the lord of the village 
who placed it there, will help to make children thought- 
ful and kindly. 

In teUing stories of this type, the narrator should 
emphasize the fact that the greatest reward is the 
mental satisfaction that follows a good action, because 
the cliild who hears much of material reward sometimes 
tliinks chiefly of the money or picnic or good time 
commendable conduct may bring, and if it happens 
that he does not receive remuneration, decides it is 
useless to perform good deeds. A case of this kind 
that came under my observation was that of a boy 
in a country school, a lazy, thoughtless httle fellow. 
One day when a man drove through the school yard, 
his brother, who was very considerate, ran to open the 
gate. The stranger tossed a penny to the child, and 
the teacher, thinking to give a lasting lesson in con- 
sideration to the thoughtless boy, dwelt at length upon 
the stick of candy the money would buy. Several 
days later another man drove through the school 
yard and the thoughtless boy ran to open the gate. 
He received a smile and a " Thank you " but no money, 
and he could not be persuaded to open the gate again. 

It is well to give stories in which children are mate- 
rially rewarded, but they should be taught to see that 
material reward is not the only reward, and that de- 
sire for it should not be the motive that prompts a 
good action. The fireman who risks his life in saving 
the. property or life of another is not bountifully paid, 
and seldom does he receive a purse for bravery. But 
he is true to his duty. He is giving to society the 



1S6 Educating by Story-Telling 

thing that he owes it, service, and his greatest guerdon 
is the satisfaction that comes from being steadfast to a 
trust. Examples of this kind are of great value to the 
child who is inchned to be selfish, and they are very 
effective in bringing all children to realize the truth 
of Alice Gary's words : 

There are no fairy folk who ride about the world at night, 
To give you rings and other things to pay for doing right, 
But if you'll do to others what you'd have them do to you, 
You'll be as blest as if the best of fairy tales were true. 

Very young children can be taught to reahze that 
the true reward of right conduct comes from added self- 
respect and from winning the esteem of others, and 
whenever a child is given a tale in which a boy or a girl 
receives some wonderful treasure for kindness or 
courtesy or truthfulness, the narrator will do well to 
interpolate a sentence hke this: "And the best part 
of it was that Albert was happy because he had done 
what was right. That thought gave him a glad feeling 
even more than the big, shiny dollar." 

Many fairy tales and fables are of particular ethical 
value for httle children, and the narrator can draw 
much from the field of general literature; biography 
and history hold many good examples, while the Bible 
is a rich storehouse of material. Ella Lyman Cabot's 
excellent work. Ethics for Children, discusses the 
ethical side of story-telhng in such a detailed and 
complete way that it should be in the hands of every 
mother and teacher. The book gives valuable sugges- 
tions, not only to workers with little folk, but to those 
who have the training of grammar grade and high- 



Story-Telling and Teaching of Ethics 137 

school pupils also. Carolyn Sherwin Bailey's Stories 
for Sunday Telling contains some good material for 
the mother and the primary teacher, while the several 
books by Sara Cone Bryant (listed in Chapter Seven, 
"TeUing the Story") wiU be helpful. 

The following list is one that has been used with good 
results : 

Stories to Develop or Stamp out Certain Traits and 

Instincts 

Deceit 

^sop : The Fox that Lost- Its Tail (Adams, William : Fables and 
Rhymes — ^sop and Mother Goose). 

Malice 

^sop : The Dog in the Manger (Adams, William : Fables and Rhymes 

— /Esop). 

Sympathy and Compassion 

Cabot, Ella Lyman: A Lesson for Kings {Ethics for Children). 
Sawyer, Ruth : The Gipsy Mother's Story of Joseph and Mary {This 
Way to Christmas). 

Honesty 
Cabot, Ella Lyman: The Little hoaf {Ethics for Children). 

Faithfulness to Duty 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Little Hero of Haarlem {How to Tell Stories). 
Cary, Phcebe: The Leak in the Dike {Poems). 

Inattention 

Bryant, Sara Cone: Epaminondas and His Auntie {How to Tell 

Stories). 
Grimm, Jacob : Stupid Hans {German Household Tales). 

Obedience 

Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : The Little Cowherd Brother {Story- 
Telling in the Home and School). 



138 Educating by Story-Telling 

Generosity 

Bailey, Carolyn Siierwin : The Boy Who Had a Picnic {Stories and 

Rhymes for the Child). 
Bailey, C. S., and Lewis, Clara M. : The Woodpecker Who Was 

Selfish {For the Children s Hour). 
Bryant, Sara Cone: The Cloud {How to Tell Stories). 
BuLFiNCH, Thomas: Baucis and Philemon {The Age of Fable). 
Cabot, Ella Lyman : Margaret of New Orleans {Ethics for Children). 
Cary, Alice: The Pig and the Hen {Poems). 
Grimm, Jacob: The Star Dollars {German Household Tales). 
Grimm, Joseph : The Elves and the Shoemaker {German Household 

Tales). 
Wilde, Oscar : The Happy Prince. 

Love and Sweetness 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Mirror of Matsuyama {How to Tell Stories). 
Tolstoi, Leo : Where Love Is, There God Is Also (See Bryant : How 
to Tell Stories). 

Forgiveness 
Bible : The Prodigal Son. 

Cabot, Ella Lyman: Lincoln and William Scott {Ethics for Children). 
Hugo, Victor: The Bishop and Jean Valjean {Les Miserahles). 
MouLTON, Louise Chandler : Coals of Fire (In Cabot : Ethics for 

Children). 
Tolstoi, Leo : A Spark Neglected Burns the Whole House (In Cabot : 
Ethics for Children). 

Cleanliness 

Bailey, Carolyn S. : The Child Who Forgot to Wash {Story -Telling 

Time). 
KiNGSLEY, Charles: Tom, the Chimney Sweep {Water Babies). 
Lindsay, Maud: Dust under the Bug {Mother Stories). 
Richards, Laura E. : The Pig Brother {The Pig Brother and Other 

Stories). 

Perseverance 

Cabot, Ella Lyman: The Story of Helen Keller {Ethics for Children). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap : Old Jan's Twilight Tale ; The Joyous 
Vagabond ; The Whittler of Cremona ; The Border Wonderful ; 
Jacopo, the Little Dyer {Boyhood Stories of Famous Men). 

Holland, Rupert S. : The Boy of the Medici Gardens {Historic Boy- 
hoods), 



Story-Telling and Teaching of Ethics 139 

Industry 

Bryant, Sara Cone: The Gold in the Orchard; The Castle of 
Fortune; The Sailor Man {How to Tell Stories). 

Contentment 

Browning, Robert: Pippa Passes (Poems). 

Bryant, Sara Cone: The Rat Princess (How to Tell Stories). 

Cabot, Ella Lyman : The Discontented Pendulum {Ethics for 

Children). 
Cather, Katherine Dunlap : The Discontented Pig. 
Menefee, Maud: Pippa Passes {Child Stories from the Masters). 

Kindness 

i^sop: The Lion and the Mouse (Adams: Fables and Rhymes — j^sop 
and Mother Goose). 

Andersen, H. C. : Five Peas in a Pod {Wonder Stories Told to Chil- 
dren). 

Bailey, C. S. : The Little Brown Lady {Story-telling Time). 

Brown, AfisiE Farwell : St. Francis of Assisi and the Wolf {Book of 
Saints and Friendly Beasts). 

Bryant, Sara Cone : Prince Cherry {Stories to Tell to Children) ; Why 
Evergreen Trees Keep Their Leaves {How to Tell Stories). 

Cabot, Ella Lyman : Dama's Jewels {Ethics for Children). 

Grimm, Jacob : Snow White and Rose Red ; Snow White and the 
Seven Dwarfs ; Queen Bee {German Household Tales) . 

Longfellow, Henry : The Bell of Atri {Poems) ; (see also Wiggin 
and Smith: The Children s Hour). 

Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : The Stone Lion ;' Little PauUna's 
Christmas {Story-Telling in the Home and School). 

Richards, Laura E. : Florence Nightingale and the Shepherd Dog 
{Florence Nightingale, the Angel of the Crimea). 

Stockton, Frank R. : Old Pipes and the Dryad (Lyman : Story-Tell- 
ing: What to Tell and How to Tell It). 

Greed 

j^sop : The Dog and His Shadow (In Adams : Fables and Rhymes — 

j^sop and Mother Goose). 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel: The Golden Touch (Wonder-Book). 

Courtesy 
Cabot, Ella Lyman : A Four-Footed Gentleman {Ethics for Children). 



140 Educating by Story-Telling 

History and biography offer a particularly rich field 
from which to draw material for older children, for 
nothing drives home with more force a lesson in patriot- 
ism, loyalty, faithfulness, heroism, or obedience than 
to read of some one who has been put to the test and 
has triumphed. Dozens of characters worth emu- 
lating will occur to any teacher, and the following 
books will be found of particular value : 

Sources of Material to Use in the Teaching of Ethics 

Baij>win, James : American Book of Golden Deeds. 

Bolton, Sarah K. : Famous Leaders among Men; Lives of Poor Boys 

Who Became Famous; Lives of Girls Who Became Famous. 
Lang, Andrew : The True Story Book. 
Lang, Jeanie : The Story of Bobert the Bruce. 
Richards, Laura E. : Florence Nightingale, the Angel of the Crimea. 



PART TWO 

THE USE OF STORY-TELLING TO ILLUMINATE SOME 
SCHOOLROOM SUBJECTS — STORIES FOR TELLING 



CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
Story-Telling to Intensify Interest in History 

IT has been said by Walter Prichard Eaton, "The 
pupil who gets a mark of one hundred and there- 
after hates Shakespeare, has failed — rather, his teacher 
has," — and it is equally true that the instructor also 
has failed whose classes look upon history as a series 
of dates and dull facts instead of a colorful story. 

To teach history successfully means to give the 
child vivid pictures of the past, to enable him to see 
as a whole the march of a race or of a nation across 
the canvas of time, to watch the legions of warriors 
go to victory or defeat, to hear the voices of statesmen 
whose wisdom has builded empires, to walk side by 
side with the men and women whose lives make up the 
annals "of the world. To be of value to the child, 
history must be felt, just as a work of hterature must 
be felt. He must hve it, must approve the worthy 
and disapprove the unworthy, must rejoice in and 
sympathize with the fortunes and misfortunes of its 
characters, else it cannot be anything more to him than 
the chronology in the almanac, disliked during his 
school days and forgotten as soon as they are over. 

Story-teUing can make history ahve and vital because 
of its power to convey the child to distant scenes and 
ages, and through it he may become, not only a spec- 
tator, but a participant in every human activity. If 
our libraries were to be swept away and publishing 
houses should shut their doors, we could still teach 
history to children, and teach it successfully, through 

143 



144 Educating by Story-Telling 

the art of the narrator. By the medium of the story 
we can make the child see what has been done by 
his ancestors and other people in the past ; by it we 
can interpret to him how his forefathers lived and 
acted, how other people have attempted to do what he 
is trying to do or sees done, and give him a vivid idea 
of human ways of living and conduct. This is history 
in the larger sense, and it was taught successfully 
by the story-teller in the past. 

Before the days of printing, when books were manu- 
scripts that no one but monks could read and kings 
could afford to own, story- teUing was the only way 
in which this subject was taught. Tales of bygone 
days were told in castle halls and to groups of eager 
listeners on the village green, and boys and girls of 
King Alfred's time knew as much of their country's 
story from the lips of wandering bards as those of our 
generation know from cramming the contents of 
textbooks. They knew it because through the tales 
they heard they were able to relive it, and what has 
been done before can be done again. Because of the 
story's power to vivify, modern children can relive 
the world's story just as those in medieval times relived 
it, and history can be made a subject fraught with 
delight to the child. 

Child attention centers first upon familiar things, and 
radiates from them to the unknown. Through his 
interest in creatures that are a part of his environment, 
the kindergarten tot becomes interested in those of 
other regions, in the men, women, children, and animals 
that are part of the life of some other child. Through 
knowledge of his immediate surroundings he comes 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 145 

to acquire knowledge of life in other surroundings, 
and according to the appeal it makes to his imagination, 
he understands and sympathizes with it, and his social 
sense is broadened. Therefore, in the study of history, 
the attention should be focused upon local environ- 
ment, and from it should radiate to other sections of 
the world. In other words, by what the child sees 
happening around him, he must be led to see what has 
happened in the past and what is happening now in 
distant regions. This requires imagination, and a 
boy or a girl cannot see or feel these events if they are 
presented as a dry chronology, because under those 
conditions they do not arouse the imagination. He 
must behold them flashed on a canvas like a colorful 
picture, and because the story can do this, because 
it can make real to the imagination situations that 
cannot be experienced, through it he can be led to see 
and feel all that we desire him to see and feel. 

The biographical story, the tale of the leader who 
towers above his fellows like the Matterhorn above 
the Valais foothills, is a boon to every teacher of history. 
Because it is unified in plot and dramatic in appeal 
to the imagination, it is the most easily handled of 
all the history material, and should be used freely. 
But if children are not to have a distorted idea of the 
story of the human race, we must not stop with the 
biographical tale. We must give them also a con- 
ception of the part the masses have had in the making 
of the great human story, of the yeomen of England, 
upon whose sturdy shoulders the foundation of British 
liberty stands, of the vassals of Italy, France, and 
Germany, of the army of unknown toilers who built 



146 Educating by Story-Telling 

the Pyramids and the Chinese Wall. Sometimes, in 
satisfying the child's hero-love, we make him one- 
sided by laying too much stress upon individual 
achievement and not enough upon the work of the 
multitude. We do not lead him to value the impor- 
tance of the humble who toil in the rank and file. This 
is not as it should be. We should make it clear to him 
that the stokers who feed the furnace of the man-of- 
war are as splendidly patriotic as the admiral who 
commands the fleet, and are as necessary to their land, 
because, were there no coal heavers, there could be no 
navy. 

Sometimes, too, because martial events are more 
spectacular than those of peace, we give the impression 
that they are the only important and heroic ones, and 
fail to convince the children of the fact that the peasants 
of Lorraine, who tilled their fields until they blossomed 
like gardens, served their land as loyally as the soldiers 
who marched to victory under the oriflamme of Henry 
of Navarre. We are too prone to center the child in- 
terest around military afi'airs, and neglect to emphasize 
the importance of conflicts of another kind. The 
history of every modern industry, of every achievement 
that has meant anything to the world, is a story of 
struggle, of victory over opposing forces. It has its 
succession of events, its periods of triumph and defeat, 
its moments of suspense, and its thrilling climax, and 
if presented in aU its possibilities, is as fascinating to 
childhood as Napoleon's Russian campaign. Let us 
not fail to give these narratives of struggle that are 
unstained by human blood, and in doing it lead childi'en 
to understand that there are other ways of serving 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 147 

one's land besides riding a war horse or carrying a 
musket. 

We teach that Robert Fulton invented the first 
steamboat, but it is only the exceptional child-leader 
who makes the most of that event, who throws upon 
the canvas, for youth to behold, the story of the struggle 
and disappointment, the triumph and despair, of the 
young American engineer. To give them the fact 
that the Clermont made a successful trip from New 
York to Albany in 1807, is hke telling the end of a 
story without the beginning or intervening chapters, 
and a snatch of a tale never has the effect of the whole. 
But if the cliildren have all the light and shade of that 
splendid narrative of invention, of the labor beside 
the Seine, of the hope and discouragement there, it 
becomes a fascinating, unforgotten tale. They re- 
member the Clermont episode because they have en- 
joyed a story, and years afterward, when they see a 
ferryboat or an ocean greyhound, they will think of 
the New Englander through whose dreams and labor 
it came to be. 

To the teacher who looks upon history as a great, 
fascinating tale, who regards it as a narrative instead 
of a mere bunch of dates and periods, who knows the 
story of man's inner development as well as that of 
his outer, and who uses the myths, legends, and epics 
of a land as side lights to illuminate its true story, great 
results are possible. There is no phase or period of 
history that he cannot make intensely interesting to 
the child, no page of the world's story that will not 
teem with life and color to the boy or girl who receives 
it from such an instructor. It may be an account of 



148 Educating by Story-Telling 

events in his own land, of happenings in the stern, 
white north country or in the opalescent south, it may 
be of knights in ghttering armor or of serene-faced, 
brown-cowled friars, of men from the masses or from 
the ranks of the exalted, but it will breathe and pulsate 
for him, it will give him the information that he should 
receive, and it will give him an understanding that no 
memorizing of dates and outlines can give, because he 
has lived with those who made history, because he has 
suffered, rejoiced, and achieved with them. 

Every great historian is more than a recounter of 
events of the past. He is an artist who fits himself 
into the moods of men and women who hved and ac- 
complished before his time, puts them into his pages 
as creatures of flesh and blood, and gives to their activ- 
ities as much freshness and interest as have the 
events that happen before our eyes. Motley, Guizot, 
Hume, Hallam, Froissart, and our own Parkman, 
Lodge, Prescott, and Bancroft created as splendidly 
as ever Hugo, Corneille, or Balzac created, because they 
endowed characters of fact with as much life as these 
other men gave to characters of fiction; and con- 
sequently, with sources rich in inspiration from which 
to draw, the teacher who aspires to vivify history by 
story-teUing is confronted by no hopeless task. He 
need only go to the works of the standard historians 
for his background, and then, by giving the imagina- 
tion sufiQcient play to supply setting and detail of 
situation, he can carry a joyful lesson to the children. 
This is well illustrated in the following story of Western 
discovery. Children love it and ask to have it told 
again and again, while if the bare facts are given them 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 149 

in outline form, it means little to them. Not every 
teacher is gifted to the degree of Miss Hood and can 
hope to weave a fact of history into a tale that deserves 
to rank as a children's classic; but every teacher can 
put history into story form with enough skill to make it 
hold dehght for his pupils and cause them to go from 
his instruction with a fondness for history, an under- 
standing of what history really means, which is worth 
infinitely more than a thousand dates or outlines 
crammed into the mind for an examination or recita- 
tion, or stored there permanently to rust and grow 
useless, because they have no meaning, and therefore 
no broadening or illuminating effect upon his life. 

THE SEARCH FOR THE SEVEN CITIES 
By Margaret Graham Hood 

The Story of Tejos 

In the year 1530, when Nunc de Guzman was governor 
of New Spain, he had an Indian slave of whom he was very 
fond and who was likewise fond of his master. He was a 
good servant and different in many ways from all the other 
slaves in the palace, and it often pleased Nuno de Guzman 
to talk with him. 

"Tejos," said De Guzman to him one day, "tell me of 
your home when you were a boy, and tell me of your father 
and mother." 

Then Tejos turned away from his master and stood for a 
long time silent. 

"Master," he said at last, "when Tejos was a boy he 
lived not in this land, nor was he a slave. His home was in 
a land far, far to the northward. My lord, it was a great 



150 Educating by Story-Telling 

land. Beyond the home of my father there was yet another 
country greater still. In that farther land were seven great 
cities, and even the smallest of them was as great as this 
city of Mexico. So rich were the people of those cities that 
they made arrowheads of emeralds, and scraped the sweat 
from their bodies with scrapers made of gold, and put pre- 
cious stones over their doors. Their houses were wide and 
high. My father carried to these people the feathers that 
they wore upon their heads, and in return they gave him 
gold and turquoises and emeralds. My father took Tejos 
with him twice, my lord, when he journeyed with feathers 
to those cities, and though Tejos was then but a small boy, 
he still remembers the long streets where were only the 
stores of jewelers who sold the precious stones and made 
them into ornaments for the people." 

"And where," asked Nuno de Guzman breathlessly, 
"where is this land?" 

"It is far away from here, my lord," answered Tejos, 
sadly. "Forty days you must journey to reach it, and the 
land through which you must travel is a desert lying between 
two seas, and there is neither water nor food to be had." 

Scarcely waiting to sleep, De Guzman began to gather a 
force to march in search of this wonderful land. Far and 
wide the story spread and on all sides the talk was of 

The Land of the Seven Cities 

With four hundred Spaniards and twenty thousand 
Indians, De Guzman marched from Mexico, and the people 
waited each day to hear that he had conquered a great 
empire in the north. 

As he went, rumors of the Seven Cities kept coming to 
him, and his men were often so excited he could hardly get 
them to sleep enough. For days they pressed eagerly for- 
ward, hoping each day to find the Seven Cities at hand ; but 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 151 

instead of this, the country each day grew more desolate, 
the mountains grew steeper and the roads harder to find, 
while the Seven Cities, instead of coming nearer, were always 
farther and farther to the north. 

Then the Indians began to desert and the Spaniards to 
complain. "We have been deceived," they said, "and we 
shall all die in this bleak land. Let us return to Mexico." 

For a while Niino de Guzman cheered them by holding 
ever before them the reward that awaited them, but at last 
he too grew discouraged and afraid ; they all turned about 
and marched sadly back to Mexico. 

"We will go back now," said Nuiio de Guzman, "but some 
day I will have the right sort of an army and I will come 
again. Tejos himself shall lead me, and I will yet find and 
conquer those Seven Cities." 

But when he returned to Mexico, Tejos was dead, and 
the story of Nurio de Guzman's misfortunes discouraged 
others ; so for six years no one went to seek the Seven Cities. 
Then a strange thing happened. 

The Wanderings of Cabeza de Vaca 

Into the town of Cufiacan there one day came wandering 
four strange men. They were barefooted and almost 
naked. The little clothing they wore was made of skins 
and hung in rags about them. Their hair lay in a tangled 
mass upon their shoulders, and their beards reached almost 
to their knees. 

They fell at the feet of the first Spaniard they met, cry- 
ing, "Thank God! Thank God! At last! At last!" 
Then they seized his hands and kissed them, kissed each 
other, and danced about, clapping their hands and shouting 
for joy. 

"They are madmen," said the people who gathered 
around to look at them. "What shall we do with them?" 



152 Educating by Story-Telling 

"No, no," cried the oldest of the strangers. "No, no I 
You do not understand. We are poor wanderers who have 
been lost for years among the Indians. We have been 
slaves; our companions have died, but at last we have 
escaped and now, for the first time in years, we see Chris- 
tians and Spaniards and our joy overcomes us. Can you 
wonder at it, dear friends?" 

"Lost among the Indians!" murmured the people in 
astonishment. "Made slaves by the Indians! Terrible! 
What can it mean?" 

"There is something very strange about it," said one. 

"Let us take them before our Capitan," said another, 
and they took them at once to the Capitan. 

"Who are you?" he asked rudely, looking with disgust 
at their dirt and rags. 

"I am Cabeza de Vaca," said the oldest man. "I am a 
noble of Castile who came with Narvaez to conquer Florida. 
The fleet was wrecked and all were lost save these three 
companions and me. We have been aU these years since 
among the Indians." 

" I do not believe a word of it," said the Capitan. " There 
is something strange about it. These men may be crimi- 
nals. Put them into prison until we find out." 

For three months they lay in the prison. Then they 
were sent for by the Alcalde Melchior Diaz. He received 
them with all kindness, and to him they were allowed to 
tell their story. 

"Is it true," he said to the oldest man, "that you are 
Cabeza de Vaca of Castile?" 

"It is true," answered Cabeza de Vaca. "Ten years ago 
I sailed with Narvaez to the Florida coast to take part in 
his great expedition, but, das ! all our ships were wrecked 
and only a few of us escaped to the mainland. There most 
of those who did escape died, and we four, three of us Span- 
iards and one a negro, have wandered ever since among the 



story -Telling and Interest in History 153 

Indians. We wept for joy at sight of our own people when 
we reached your town, but they have treated us worse 
than did the Indians." 

"Do not think of that now," said kind Melchior Diaz. 
" It was a mistake ; you shall now be treated with all the 
kindness that is your due. Tell me your story." 

Then Cabeza de Vaca began the story of his wanderings : 

"After Narvaez and the ships were lost," said he, "we 
escaped to the mainland and were taken captive by the 
Indians. They were a poor, starved people who lived on 
roots and berries and whatever they could get, and who 
often went for days without a mouthful. I do not know 
how many years they held us as slaves, but it was for many 
years and our sufferings were great. 

"We tried always to get to the north, and little by little 
we got further westward and northward. 

"At last we escaped from those Indians who held us as 
slaves and fell in with others farther west who had never 
seen a white man. We had with us a rattle such as is used 
by their medicine men, and this, with our beards, made them 
think we were from heaven. They fell on their faces before 
us and gave us all that they had. 

"We told these people we wished to go to where the sun 
sets, and they said, 'No, you cannot go there. The people 
are too far away.' 

"'It makes no difference,' I said, 'you must still lead us 
there.' 

"We saw they were in great fear, but at last they sent off 
two of their women to see if they could find the other people 
and tell them of our coming. In five days they came back. 
' They have found no people,' said the Indians to us. ' Then,' 
said I, 'lead us to the northward,' and again they said: 
'There are no people there. Neither is there food or 
water.' 

"At this I became offended and went apart from them, 



154 Educating by Story-Telling 

and at night went away by myself to sleep. But they 
came at once where I was and remained all night without 
sleep. They talked to me in great fear, teUing me how 
great was their fright, begging us to be no longer angry; 
and they said they would lead us whatsoever way we 
wished to go, though they knew they should die on the 
way. 

"We still pretended to be angry, lest their fright should 
leave them, and while we were thus pretending a remark- 
able thing happened : the very next day many of them be- 
came ill, and eight men died. They believed we had caused 
their death by wiUing it, and it seemed as if they must all 
die of fear, 

"In truth, it caused us so much pain to see them suffer 
that it could not be greater, and we prayed to God, our 
Lord, to relieve them, and they soon got better. 

"News of our strange power spread through the land, and 
the people trembled at our coming. Sometimes they would 
come to meet us, and bring all they owned and offer it to 
us. Or, again, when they heard we were coming, they would 
go into their houses and pile all their goods in a heap in the 
middle of the floor for us, and then sit down, with their 
faces to the wall, their heads bowed, and their hair drawn 
over their eyes. Thus they waited until we came and spoke 
to them. Then they gave us whatever we would take from 
them, 

"Wherever we went, they brought their sick to us and 
begged us to cure them. We always examined them care- 
fully, and treated them as best we knew how, and prayed 
earnestly to God to help us, and they nearly always got well. 
Whenever a sick man got well, he not only gave us all that 
he had, but all his friends did likewise. 

"As we pressed westward and northward we came all 
the time to finer Indians who had more wealth and better 
homes than those farther east. 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 155 

"At last we came to a land of plenty. The people lived 
in houses and had beans, pumpkins, and calabashes for 
food and covered themselves with blankets made of hides. 
They were the finest-looking and strongest people we had 
seen and inteUigent beyond any of the others. They had 
nothing they did not give to us. They begged us to pray 
for rafin and told us that for two years not a drop had fallen. 
When we asked where they had got their food, they told us 
from the land of the maize. Then I bade them tell me of 
this land of the maize, and they told that beyond them was 
a land of many people and large houses, where maize grew 
all over the land ; that the people of that land were wealthy 
and wore beautiful plumes and feathers of parrots, and used 
precious stones for arrowheads and to decorate their houses. 
And they brought to me five beautiful emeralds cut into 
arrowheads, and many fine turquoises and beads made of 
coral such as come from the South Seas. When I asked 
whence they got these stones, they pointed to some lofty 
mountains that stand toward the north and told us that 
from there came the precious stones, and that near those 
mountains were large cities. They said that in those cities 
the houses were so large that there were sometimes three or 
four lofts one above the other." 

"And did you not go to those cities?" asked Melchior 
Diaz, eagerly, 

"No," answered Cabeza de Vaca. "I did not go be- 
cause I heard that toward the sunset were other men of my 
kind, and I hurried westward, hoping to meet them. There- 
fore I did not go to the land of the cities. I longed once 
more to look upon the face of a Spaniard." 

"You have suffered much," said Melchior Diaz, "but do 
not think of it, and now rest." 

Then Melchior Diaz sent off a messenger to Mexico to 
carry a letter to the Viceroy de Mendoza, telling him of 
Cabeza de Vaca and his strange tale. 



156 Educating by Story-Telling 

Forthwith the messenger returned with a letter com- 
manding Cabeza de Vaca and his companions to come at 
once to Mexico and appear before the viceroy. 

To Mexico they went, and again Cabeza told the strange 
story of their wanderings. 

"It is a wonderful story," said the viceroy, when he had 
finished, "and you certainly deserve to spend the rest of 
your life in ease. Say the word, and I myself will send 
you home to Spain." 

Cabeza de Vaca almost wept for joy at these words. 
"Gladly will I go, dear friend. Gladly will I go, for I am 
weary of wandering and would once more see my own 
country." 

I So Cabeza de Vaca and two of his companions sailed off 
to Spain, and the Viceroy de Mendoza thought much of 
the wonderful cities far to the northward. 

The Journey of Fray Marcos 

The story of Cabeza de Vaca set all New Spain talking 
once more of the Seven Cities. 

"Of course," said the people, as they talked, "of course 
they are the same seven cities Nuiio de Guzman learned of 
from Tejos, the Indian. He did not get the right directions, 
and so he failed to reach them. But now we know they are 
there," and many were eager to set out at once. 

But the Viceroy de Mendoza was a quiet and careful 
statesman. 

"There have been many lives lost already," he said, "and 
it will be better not to be in too great a hurry. I believe 
these are the seven cities sought for by Nuiio de Guzman, 
but I shall not send an army until I am sure." 

Then he thought of a monk called Fray Marcos of Niza, 
who had been much among the Indians of the north, and he 
sent for him to come at once to Mexico. 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 157 

Fray Marcos came, and the Viceroy de Mendoza told 
him the story of Cabeza de Vaca. 

"Now, Fray Marcos," said the viceroy, after finishing the 
story, "if we should send an aimy, these Indians would 
surely make war upon us and both for them and for us 
there would be many lives lost. You understand them, and 
it might be that they would let you come among them and 
learn what we desire. Perhaps there hes to the northward 
as great a nation as Peru or Mexico. It must be taken for 
the church and the crown. Will you not be the one to carry 
the message of the cross and to take possession of the coun- 
try for the king of Spain ? " 

"I will," said Fray Marcos, eagerly. 

"Very well," said Mendoza, smiling. " The negro Stephen 
who was with Cabeza de Vaca is here, and he shall be your 
guide. Remember that this expedition is to be undertaken 
more to spread our knowledge of God than for great wealth. 
Therefore, bear in mind that the natives are to be treated 
with the utmost kindness, and my displeasure will fall heavy 
upon whosoever shall offend them. Say to them that the 
Emperor is very angry at those Christians who have been 
unkind to them, and that never again shall they be en- 
slaved or taken from their homes. 

"Take special note of their number, and of their manner 
of life, and whether they are at peace or at war among 
themselves. Notice the nature of the country, the fertility 
of the soil, and the character of its products. Learn what 
wild animals there are there, and find out if there are any 
rivers gi'eat or small. Search for precious stones and metals 
and, if possible, bring back specimens of them. Also make 
careful inquiry if the natives have any knowledge of a neigh- 
boring sea. 

"If you shall succeed in reaching the Southern Sea, write 
out an account of all your discoveries and bury it at the 
foot of the tallest tree and then mark the tree with a cross. 



158 Educating by Story-Telling 

Do the same at the mouth of all rivers, and those who are 
sent after you will be on the lookout for such a sign. Take 
enough Indians with you so that you can send them back 
from time to time to bring to us reports of the route you 
have taken and how you are treated by the Indians you meet. 
If you shall come to any great city, do not send back word 
but come yourself and teU me about it. And lastly, although 
all the world belongs to the Emperor, be sure and plant the 
cross in those new lands and take possession of them in the 
name of the Spanish crown, and never forget that your 
life is of great value to your church and your country, and 
do not risk it needlessly. Now, go. Make all your plans 
and set out as soon as may be." 

Fray Marcos hastened to make his plans, and on the 
seventh of March, 1539, he set out from Culiacan with the 
negro Stephen and a few faithful Indians. 

Several months went by ; then, at the end of September, 
1539, a traveler in a monk's gown came walking alone into 
Culiacan. 

"It is Fray Marcos!" cried the people. "It is Fray 
Marcos, who went to search for the Seven Cities!" "Did 
you find them, Fray Marcos .^*" "Where is Stephen, the 
negro?" "Are the Seven Cities full of wealth?" 

But Fray Marcos would not answer. "I have much to 
tell," he said to them, "but I will tell it only to the Lord de 
Mendoza himself." 

To the Lord de Mendoza he told a story even more won- 
derful than the story of Tejos, the Indian, or that of Cabeza 
de Vaca. 

"All the way," he said, "I found great entertainment, for 
after I told the Indians they were not to be enslaved, they 
could not do enough to show their love for me. I went 
where the Holy Ghost did lead me. The Indians guided 
me from place to place, and some went ahead to tell others 
that I was coming. Everywhere they came to meet me and 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 159 

gave me welcome. They had food ready for me ; and where 
there were no houses, they built bowers of trees and flowers 
that I might rest safe from the sun. 

"I saw naught that was worthy of notice until there came 
to me some Indians from an island off the coast, and these 
wore about their necks great shells that were of mother-of- 
pearl. To these I showed the pearls which I carried with 
me for show, and they told me that in their islands there 
were great stores of such, and that there were thirty islands. 

"And then I passed through a desert of four days' journey, 
and there went with me the Indians from the island and 
from the mountains I had passed. At the end of this 
desert I found other Indians, who marveled much to see me, 
because they had not before seen a white man. They gave 
me great stores of food and sought to touch my garments, 
and called me Hayota, which in their language means 'A 
man come from Heaven.' 

"As best I could, I told to all these Indians of our Lord 
God in Heaven, and of our great Emperor over the sea. 
Then I asked them if they knew of any great kingdom 
thereabout or of any great cities. 

"And they told me that farther on were high mountains, 
and at the foot of those mountains was a large and mighty 
plain on which were many great towns and people clad in 
cotton. Then I showed them metals that I carried with 
me and said to them, 'Have the people of those cities any 
of these .►^' And they took the gold metal from my hand 
and said : ' Of this do the people of those cities make the 
vessels from which they eat, and also do they make of it 
thin plates to scrape the sweat from their bodies, and the 
walls of their temples are covered therewith.' 

"Then I asked concerning the precious stones known to 
the people of the cities, and the Indians answered that they 
had round, green stones that they prized much and wore 
hanging from their noses and ears. 



160 Educating by Story-Telling 

"The Indians ofTered to take me to the cities, but because 
it was a long journey from the sea, and your lordship had 
commanded me to keep close to the coast, I did not go. 

"It was now Passion Sunday, and I felt inclined to tarry 
among the people I was with. I did so, but I sent on ahead 
of me the negro Stephen. 

"I told him to go to the northweu-d fifty or threescore 
leagues, and to take with him Indians, of whom he should 
send back from time to time messengers bearing me news of 
all that he learned. 

"We agreed that if it were the mean country of which 
he learned, he should send me a cross no longer than my hand ; 
but if it were a great country, he should send me a cross 
the length of two hands ; and if it were a country greater 
and richer than New Spain, he should send a great cross. 

"Stephen went from me on Passion Sunday, after dinner, 
and within four days there came to me messengers bearing 
a cross as high as a man. He sent me also word that I 
should at once come after him, for he had news of a mighty 
province ; that he had with him certain Indians who had 
been to that province, and one of them he sent to me. 

"The Indian whom Stephen had sent told me it was 
thirty days' journey beyond the town where Stephen was, 
to the first city of the province, which was called Cibola. He 
said there were seven great cities in this province all under 
one lord. The houses, he said, were made of stone and 
the smallest of them were of two lofts, one above the other ; 
and the house of the lord of the province had four lofts and 
was wide and long. He said, too, that the gates of the 
finest houses were cunningly wrought with turquoises, 
whereof they had plenty. 

"The same day that Stephen's messenger came to me 
there came also another Indian from the seacoast, and he 
told again of the many islands in the sea and of people who 
have many pearls and much gold. 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 161 

"And that same day there came to me three Indians with 
their faces and breasts and arms painted. 

"They came, they said, from a province toward the east 
that bordered upon that of the Seven Cities. They had 
heard of me and wished to see me. They told me of the 
Seven Cities of Cibola, the people, and the houses, in the 
same manner that Stephen had sent me word. I sent back 
the Indians who had come from the islands on the seacoast, 
and hurried on after Stephen. 

"Each day messengers came to me from Stephen, all 
carrying large crosses and all telling of Cibola. 

"At last came Indian messengers who told me of three 
other kingdoms called Marata, Acus, and Tonteac. They 
said that the people of those provinces dressed even as the 
people of Cibola, with gowns of cotton that hang to their 
feet, and they bound them with girdles of turquoises. And 
they told me much more, to make me know that these prov- 
inces were in all ways as great as Cibola. 

"I traveled on for days, stopping to know the people 
among whom I passed and always being received by them 
with aU tenderness. 

"They brought me their sick that I might heal them and 
sought always to touch my garments. They gave to me 
cowhides so well tanned that I could not well beheve them 
to have been dressed by savage people. 

"As I went on, I came to great crosses set up in the 
ground by Stephen to let me know that the good news of 
the country increased. I came to a pleasant town at last 
where indeed were people clad in cotton, both men and 
women, and they wore turquoises in their noses and ears. 
The lord of the village came with his brethren to greet me, 
and they were well dressed in robes of cotton and hides and 
wore collars of turquoises about their necks. 

" It was a fair country, better than any I had yet seen ; 
so I set up two great crosses and took possession of it for 



162 Educating by Story-Telling 

His Majesty, the Emperor. They offered me gifts of all 
they had, but I took not one thing save food. 

"I came now to a desert and went into it, and I found 
that the Indians had gone on ahead of me and built bowers 
beneath which I ate and slept, and in this manner I traveled 
for four days. 

"Then I entered a vaUey where were many people; men 
and women came to meet me with food. All of them had 
turquoises hanging from their noses and ears and collars of 
turquoises three or four times double about their necks. 

"Here they knew of Cibola as much as we in New Spain 
know of Mexico and could answer all I wished to ask about 
the people. 

"As I went on I met more and more people, and passed 
through a fine country where is much grass and water. 
The people were in all ways civil and kind and told me about 
Cibola and Acus, and Tonteac and Marata and Quivira. 
Here I saw a thousand oxhides all nicely dressed and chains 
of turquoise, and they told me they all came from Cibola. 

"And now I had two deserts to cross and was fifteen 
days' journey from Cibola. 

"I entered the desert, and many Indians went with me, 
and others went on ahead to make ready for me ; and each 
day there came word from Stephen, telling me all was true 
and to hurry after him. 

"For twelve days I journeyed thus, and then there came 
running to meet us an Indian in great fright — his body 
covered with sweat and dust and his face showing the greatest 
sadness. 

"He told us that the day before, Stephen had reached 
Cibola, and had sent messengers into the city with presents 
for its lord, and to let him know they came in peace. 

"But the lord of the city fell into a great rage, and dashed 
the presents of Stephen to the ground. In his fury he drove 
the messengers out of the city, and told them that if they 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 163 

again appeared they would surely be killed, as would also 
Stephen, if he dared to come near. 

"The messengers hurried to Stephen and told him what 
had happened, but he was in no wise afraid ; he answered 
he should go, nevertheless, and bade the Indians fear not, 
but to come with him. 

"They went on, but as they were about to enter the city, 
many of its people met them and seized them and cast them 
into a great house that stood just outside. They took from 
them all that they had, and left them all night without food 
or drink. The next morning Stephen and his Indians tried 
to escape, but they were scarce outside their prison when 
the people of the city set upon them, and Stephen and all 
the Indians, except the messenger and one other, were killed. 
These two had been struck down and left for dead, but 
were only stunned. They had lain under the dead bodies 
of the others until the angry people had gone back into the 
city. Then they had crept away. 

"My Lord de Mendoza, so great was my grief at this 
terrible news that it seemed for a moment I must indeed 
die, but when I saw all my Indians begin to weep and la- 
ment, I knew I must not give way. 

" I straightway gave to them many of the presents I had 
intended for the people of Cibola, and then I resolved that 
though I might not enter the city I would still look upon it, 
and I told them I would nevertheless go on. They begged 
me not to go, but when they saw I was firm two of them 
agreed to go with me. Se we left the others to await our 
return and journeyed forwards. We traveled one day, and 
then we came to a round hill. This I climbed, and on look- 
ing down saw at its foot the city of Cibola. It was a fair 
city, my lord. The houses were as the Indians told me, of 
two and three and four stories and built of stone. The 
people were somewhat white and dressed in white garments. 
Greatly was I tempted to risk my hfe and go thither, but 



164 Educating by Story-Telling 

knowing that if I were killed all knowledge of the country 
would be lost, I gave it up and contented myself with plant- 
ing a cross upon the hilltop in token that I took possession 
for the crown of Spain." 

"You have done well, Fray Marcos," cried Mendoza, 
"and now it is time to send an army." 

The Disappointment of Coronado 

When Mendoza wanted to send an army, the first person 
he thought of was a brave soldier and fine nobleman named 
Francisco de Coronado, who sat by his side, listening eagerly. 

Coronado knew all about the expedition of Nufio de Guz- 
man, and had heard the story of Cabeza de Vaca. Also, 
he had talked with Mendoza before the viceroy had sent 
Fray Marcos on his journey, and had said he would be will- 
ing to spend a fortune in fitting out an army to take the 
Seven Cities. 

So Mendoza turned to Coronado and said:, "Is it still 
your wish, my noble friend, to lead an army against this 
kingdom of Cibola .»^" 

"It is," said Coronado. 

"Well, then, make ready at once, and I wiU help you in 
every way that I can," said the viceroy. 

The news spread rapidly, and again all New Spain was 
talking of the Seven Cities. In a short time three hundred 
Spaniards and eight hundred Indians had enfisted, and so 
many gentlemen of noble birth had offered to go that the 
viceroy was much embarrassed in choosing officers, for of 
course he must take the noblest gentlemen, and there were 
too many ! 

A fine sight they were — those cavaliers of Spain — in 
their glittering armor, mounted on prancing horses, their 
lances gleaming in the sunlight and their banners flying. 
Out of Compostela they marched in the gayest spirits, 



• Story-Telling and Interest in History 165 

thinking of the loads of gold and jewels they would bring 
back with them. 

But it was very different when they reached the desert 
and the mountains. They did not know how to bear the 
fatigue of such a journey, nor how to care for their horses 
and cattle and sheep. The animals died in large numbers, 
and the courage of the soldiers weakened rapidly as they 
grew weary. 

The soldiers had come with the thought of conquest, so 
they did not treat the Indians they met so kindly as Fray 
Marcos had done, and of course the Indians did not like 
them very weU, and in a Uttle while there began to be trouble. 

At last they came to a narrow pass in the mountains. 

"I am afraid the Indians will try to keep us from pass- 
ing," said Coronado to the Master of the Field. "Go you 
with a company of soldiers and guai'd that pass until all 
the army come up. Then we will go through." 

The Master of the Field took his company and stood guard 
at the pass. But that night, while all but the sentries were 
asleep, the Indians crept down upon them and the sleeping 
camp was roused by a shower of stones and arrows and the 
wild yells of the Indians. 

Now the men had Iain down with their guns beside them ; 
so they were ready, and they sprang up and began fighting 
bravely. For a while the battle raged hotly, the Spaniards 
firing their guns and the Indians replying with stones and 
arrows. But when the Indians saw some of their number 
falling dead, they were frightened and fled away in the 
darkness, and the Spaniards held the pass. 

After that the Spaniards had little peace, but nevertheless 
Coronado managed to keep up their courage. On they went, 
up through that country we now call Arizona, over almost 
the same road that Fray Marcos had traveled. They paused 
where is now the city of Tucson, and then marching north- 
eastward, crossed the Gila River and moved on toward 



166 Educating by Story-Telling 

Cibola. At last, where today stands the town of Zuni, 
they reached the first city of the kingdom whose fame had 
so long filled with golden dreams the minds of the Spaniards. 
But instead of the great, fine, glittering city they had ex- 
pected they saw only a village of a few hundred houses. 

The hearts of the Spaniards sank as they gazed upon it. 
Coronado called three of his men and said to them, "Go 
into the city and say to the people that we are not enemies, 
but have come in the name of the Emperor, our lord, to 
defend them and to join with them in friendship." 

The messengers went into the city and delivered Coronado's 
message, but the people of Cibola received it with scorn. 

"We did not ask you to come," they replied, "and your 
lord had no right to send you. This is our land and we can 
defend it. Go back to your lord and to your own land, for 
if you stay here you shall not one of you live." 

The messengers turned to go back to Coronado, and even as 
they went the people of Cibola began firing arrows at them. 

Coronado got his men quickly together and gave the 
command to attack. The people of Cibola were gathered 
upon the walls of their city and rained down arrows and 
stones upon the Spaniards as they came. The Spaniards 
were many of them so weary from their long journey that 
they had not strength enough left to pull a crossbow. In- 
deed, for a time it seemed they must be beaten, so fiercely 
did the Indians battle against them. The glittering armor 
of Coronado and the earnestness with which he cheered on 
his men, told the Indians that he was the leader of the 
Spaniards, and they tried particularly to kill him. Twice 
they felled him to the ground, and once he must surely have 
been killed had not a brave knight stood across his body and 
guarded him from the rain of stones until he recovered. He 
would not give up. Weak from the blows he had received, 
aching in every part, and with an arrow sticking in his foot, 
he led the last charge, shouting "Santiago !" as he rode. 



Story-Telling and Interest in History 167 

"Santiago!" echoed his soldiers as they followed him 
straight into the town. The Indians fled as the Spaniards 
entered, and the battle was over. 

The Spaniards almost wept with rage and despair as they 
looked about them. The houses, it is true, were made of 
stone and were large, as had been said, but there were no 
jeweled gates, no vessels of gold and silver, no fine city, no 
stores of wealth to carry back to Spain. 

So great was Coronado's despair that he fell iU almost 
unto death. He could not bear to give up. It seemed he 
must find those seven wonderful cities. As soon as he was 
able he sent out parties in all directions to see what could be 
found. 

For almost two years they searched. Whenever an Indian 
told them a new tale, they started off at once to see if it 
were true. They heard of a great river to the westward, 
and Arellano, one of the brave officers, led a party at once 
in search of it. Across the dry, hot desert of Arizona they 
went, and never stopped until they came to the Grand 
Canon of the Colorado. Below them flowed the mighty 
river between wafls hundreds of feet deep and so steep they 
could not descend to the water, though they were almost 
dying of thirst as they stood over it. 

Scarcely had they got back before the army was again 
all excitement because an Indian had told a tale of a great 
city to the northeastward. Coronado himself led them in 
search of it. Up they went through New Mexico, traveling 
for days among herds of buffaloes that reached farther than 
they could see. 

They went so far north as to enter that part of our coun- 
try now called Kansas, They found in reward for their 
long journey only a few Indian villages. 

At last, when more than two thirds of his men were dead, 
Coronado gave up and marched back to Mexico. And this 
was the last search for the Seven Cities that were not. 



CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

Story-Telling to Intensify Interest in 
Geography 

IN the study of geography the story means as much 
as in history. The child is keenly interested in 
what he is doing and in what those around him are 
doing, and when he discovers that people in China, 
in South America, in Austraha, or in Russia are doing 
the very things he is attempting to do or sees done, 
that they are engaged in industrial occupation very 
much as his father or uncle or neighbor is engaged in it, 
that distant occupation loses its remote quality, and 
the country with which it is associated becomes real 
and near to him. In the larger sense geography is 
something that must be felt and imagined. It is an 
interpretation of foreign activities and the regions in 
which they take place, and because the story can in- 
terpret these activities, because it can make situations 
real and familiar instead of aloof, it is of inestimable 
value in teaching the subject. Here the myth and 
fairy tale can be used with excellent results, because 
tlu-ough them the child sees something of the struggle 
of man in his effort to interpret the world and comes 
to have a broader sympathy for the ideals of people 
of other regions. Moreover, in many instances it 
tends to fix definite information concerning a certain 
locality and to invest distant regions with vivid interest, 
for to the boy who associates the Rhine or Danube 
or Himalayas with the tale of a hero or people who once 
lived and did brave deeds there, those rivers and 
mountains will be more than black specks on a map. 

168 



Story-Telling and Interest in Geography 169 

If he hears of the two frogs in Japan who started out 
to see the world, he will not say that Kioto is somewhere 
in South America, because the spot has been fixed in 
his mind by a story. Because it is associated with 
something he has enjoyed, it stays there, and while 
the highest aim of the study of geography is not merely 
to stuff the mind with facts, but to broaden the horizon 
and bring the world within the child's own dooryard, 
the acquisition of certain information tends to give 
him that broad outlook which makes all people seem 
creatures of his world and all activities a part of his 
own experience. Unfortunately, however, teachers 
sometimes lose sight of this fact, and the larger aim is 
made subservient to a memorizing of data. 

Geography and history are so closely related that 
it is difficult to separate them, and in making one vivid 
we must draw constantly from the other. The field 
is hmitless. In fact, there are so many stories to give 
the geography class that teachers sometimes say, 
"When Eire we to have time for formal recitations?" 

Too much recitation and not enough story is respon- 
sible for the fact that boys and girls sometimes give 
startling information about the location of places. 
Shorten the recitation period, if necessary, but do 
not fail to give the stories that bring far-away places 
as near as one's own dooryard, and let tests and ex- 
aminations prove which method is better. We must 
possess before we can give, and the pupil who is assigned 
a number of pages and expected to recite about them 
often fails miserably, because interest, which must 
underlie the acquisition of knowledge, has not been 
aroused. We may tell him to study the course of the 



170 Educating by Story-Telling 

Rhine and locate the cities that dot its banks, and one 
will mean no more to him than the other. But if he 
hears the tale of the building of the king of German 
cathedrals and the legend of the architect's compact 
with the Evil One, Cologne will have an individuality 
very different from that of Coblenz with its bridge of 
boats. If he hstens to the tale of Maui fishing up 
New Zealand from the bottom of the ocean, of the 
demigod chieftain who was the discoverer of Hawaii 
and the patriarch of his people, there will pass before 
Ills eyes at the mention of places among the Pacific 
Islands pictures of a dark-skinned, sea-loving race 
with a history fully as fascinating as that of his own 
people. 

If there is not time for him to recite it all, let him 
write about it. This will help to solve the composi- 
tion problem, because the reason for much of the miser- 
able written English work is due to the fact that the 
child has nothing to give. He is told to elaborate 
upon a subject that lies far from his interest, one of 
which he has Httle knowledge, with results that every 
English teacher knows. But if he has been interested 
in it by a story, he can give that story back in oral or 
written form, even though the construction be far from 
perfect. 

Another value of using stories with a geographical 
or historical background is that they develop the 
child's social instinct and give him something of a 
realization of the brotherhood of man. Through 
hearing and reading them he becomes broader and 
more tolerant. He sees that in every part of the world 
men have their standards and ideals, which, although 



Story-Telling and Interest in Geography 171 

they may be greatly at variance with his own, are 
entitled to respect because they represent deep con- 
victions and desires. Instead of viewing the world 
through a keyhole, he sees it across unobstructed 
fields and comes to have a bigger human understanding. 
In the study of geography there is a finer opportunity 
than anywhere else in elementary education to divert 
the child's feet from a narrow, provincial trail into 
the broad highway of cosmopolitanism. 

As in the study of history, so in geography the story 
should radiate from local environment to other sections 
of the world, and every worker with girls and boys, 
whether mother, teacher, or librarian, sliould endeavor 
to give them some idea of the story of their own lo- 
cality. The child should know something of the legends 
of the people who built their camp fires on the spots 
that are his pubhc parks and gardens, and teachers 
especially should aid the earnest group of men and 
women that is patiently collecting and preserving 
our American folklore, by giving some of it to the 
children. It will not only heighten pride in their 
own locality, but it will broaden their understanding 
of other lands and races and their sympathy with the 
struggles of different peoples. This kind of work belongs 
to the field of history, but it so greatly increases interest 
in geography that the teacher should not miss the 
opportunity of using this material. 

There are legends clustering about every section 
of our country that the people of that locahty should 
know, and it is a matter of regret that the average 
man or woman has seldom heard of them. Europeans 
are incHned to say we are a people of no traditions. 



172 Educating by Story-Telling 

While the charge is untrue, and our land is rich in leg- 
endary lore, it is true that only a small percentage of 
Americans are familiar with it. One reason for this 
general ignorance is that much of it has been buried 
in scientific treatises, which are unavailable to the 
layman. But within the last few years a large amount 
has been put within reach of the story-teller. The 
unceasing work of the American Folklore Society has 
resulted in unearthing and preserving much that 
would otherwise have been lost and that is important 
enough to have a place in our schools. Nothing is 
more fascinating to the child than stories of his own 
region, and our young people ought to be privileged 
to share in that joy with boys and girls of the Old 
World. 

There are peasant lads in France, Italy, and other 
European countries who can entertain by the hour with 
tales of their rivers and mountains — not those of some 
distant province, but the peaks that tower above their 
native village, the streams along which they trudge 
on their way to school. California, Washington, and 
Oregon children should be given legends of the Yo- 
semite, of Lake Tahoe, of Mount Shasta, of the Colum- 
bia River, and of Mount Rainier. Boys and girls 
among Southern bayous should be taught the tradi- 
tions of their region, of the Indians and Creoles who 
made history there when that section was a province 
of France ; while along Northern lake and inland river 
are tales of forest folk, of pathfinder and black-robed 
message bringer, of knights of the Old World come 
to seek fortune in the New, that are a part of the 
heritage of every youth living there. Let us give them 



Story-Telling and Interest in Geography 173 

to our young people, that they may love theii home 
spots, not just because they are beautiful and are 
theirs, but as the French child loves the Rhone or the 
Austrian the Danube, because of the stories that tend 
to make them enchanted ground. 

In using the story in geography the teacher's work 
does not end with telling the story. The places men- 
tioned in it should be located on the map, that their 
exact position may be fixed in the mind of the child. 
Interest in the story wiU make this a pleasure rather 
than a task for the boy, just as it becomes a delight 
rather than a hardship for him to follow the route 
taken by his father or uncle when he goes on a journey, 
or to work out the itinerary of a trip he hopes to take 
himself. One small boy studied the geography of Vir- 
ginia with keen interest after reading Lord Cornwallis' 
Silver Buckles, and more than one man and woman 
attest to the fact that some book read and loved during 
their school days did more to fix the location of river, 
city, and mountain in their minds than hours of class- 
room recitation spent in bounding states and countries 
and tracing the courses of rivers. 

The following legend of Niagara Falls is illustrative 
of one type of tale that wiU greatly add to the child's 
interest in geography by investing certain localities 
with story associations. Much other material is given 
in the appended bibliography, and the wide-awake 
teacher will be able to glean much more from libraries 
and adapt it to her work. 



174 Educating by Story-Telling 

THE GOD OF THE THUNDERING WATER 
Retold from an Iroquois Legend 

Before the white man sailed westward across the Atlantic, 
in fact, before Columbus was born or anybody even dreamed 
about a short route to the Indies, a little Indian girl lived 
on the shore of Niagara not so very far above the cataract. 
She was a happy little thing, and as she grew to maiden- 
hood she became the fairest girl of her tribe, and her father, 
who was a mighty chieftain, promised her in marriage to the 
most powerful of his braves. This Indian was a swift 
runner, and around the council fire not another tongue was 
so nimble or eloquent as his, and never did his arrows fail 
to pierce the heart of the deer at which he aimed them. 
But that mattered little to the girl. He was not her ideal 
of a husband, and she could think of nothing more dreadful 
than becoming the mistress of his wigwam. Yet her father 
had spoken and she must obey, and with a sad heart she 
made ready for the wedding, weaving the handsomest of 
wampum belts and ornamenting her moccasins with gay 
beads and bits of woodpecker feather. 

The wedding morning dawned, and the Indians began the 
games and merrymaking that always marked a marriage. 
The bridegroom and the young braves vied in races and 
wrestling matches, and the women too had a part in the 
festivities, singing and chanting weird songs as they tended 
the fire and roasted venison for the feast. Everybody was 
happy, — every one but the bride, who did not want to 
marry, and who sat in her wigwam looking sadly out upon 
the sport. Suddenly came the decision that she would not 
be the squaw of the man she detested. 

Quickly, softly, she crept from the wigwam and hurried 
to the river bank. The others were so busy with their merry- 
making that they did not see her go, and soon she came to 



Story-Telling and Interest in Geography 175 

where her canoe was moored to some bushes. She stepped 
into it, pushed it from shore, and began drifting down the 
stream. It was good to be there on the water, for, hke all 
Indian girls, she loved to paddle, and in her joy of skimming 
along with the current she began to sing. 

Suddenly a whoop went up from the village of her people. 
It was not the cry of those victorious in a game, it was a 
shout of anger, a cry of alarm, for they had seen her and 
believed she was trying to escape from the marriage every 
one knew was distasteful to her. The bridegroom started in 
pursuit, then another Indian and another, until every man 
in the village was rushing to the river and some had already 
begun the chase in canoes. 

"They shall not take me back," the girl murmured. 
"I will not go back to the village and become Kunawa's 
squaw." 

With swift, powerful strokes she paddled down the stream. 
She forgot that the cataract was roaring below her, forgot 
that her canoe was going rapidly and surely toward the 
bright foam from which no boat could come back. She 
thought only that she was fleeing from a wedding, and not 
until she saw the rapids beneath her did she realize her fate. 
Then she began her death song, and those in pursuit heard 
it for a moment, loud, clear, and plaintive as the canoe cut 
into the cataract, then suddenly silenced as it shot down 
to the rapids. Some of the women wailed and joined in 
the funeral dirge, and some of the others cried out in fear 
to the Great Spirit. 

" It is the last of Kunawa's bride ! " they exclaimed. 
"She is now on her way to the Spirit Land." 

But it was not the last of the girl. Far down in the mist 
of the cataract, Heno, the Thunder God, had seen her. He 
held forth his arms, and as the canoe dropped to the rapids, 
she went into them, and bearing her through the watery 
depths, he placed her in a cavern behind the fall where he 



176 Educating by Story-Telling 

had lived since the beginning of things, and where the girl 
would hve with him henceforth. 

Many years passed. She was no longer a young maiden, 
but a tall, sturdy woman, and Heno gave her to one of his 
sons to be his squaw. She lived there in happiness with him 
in the cavern under Niagara, and often she thought of her 
people and her native village above beside the river. Be- 
cause she remembered and loved them, Heno was kind to 
them, and when pestilence came to the region he lifted her 
to the shore that she might tell them where to go to escape 
the disease. 

Once a great monster, a snake all green and white, came 
trailing his body through the forest like a river between 
hills, and made straight for the village by Niagara to feed 
upon the people there. But through the Indian girl Heno 
had told them of the coming danger, and they fled before 
the monster so fast that when it reached the village it found 
only a place of deserted camps. The great creature hissed 
with wrath, but Heno saw it from the mists and struck it 
dead with a thunderbolt. The great mass rolled to the river, 
floated down the stream, and lodged so tight above the 
cataract that a fold in its body sent a great volume of 
water out of its course, forming the Horseshoe Fall. The 
flood centered there destroyed the home of Heno too, but 
the Thunder God arose with his children and the Indian 
girl, and ascending to the heavens, has hved there ever 
since, where he thunders in the cloud mists as he once did 
in those of the fall. His voice is so mighty that the echo 
of it is always sounding above Niagara, and although white 
men say it is nothing but the noise of falling water, the 
Indians know better. They know it is the song of the god 
of the Thundering Water. 



Story-Telling and Interest in Geography 177 
Sources of Material to Use in History and Geography 

The history and geography references have been combined because 
each of the books hsted here is valuable in both lines of work. This 
plan also carries out the Play School idea, which is that there is no Una 
of demarcation between the two subjects. 

Baldwin, James : The Discovery of the Old Northwest. 
Becquer, Gustavo Adolfo : Romantic Legends of Spain. 
Brabourne, Lord (Edward Knatchbull-Hugessen) : River Legends 

(London and England). 
Converse, Harriet Clarke : Myths and Legends of New York State 

Iroquois. 
Griffis, William Elwot : The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Tales 

(Korean). 
Guerber, Helene a. : The Story of the English; Legends of the Rhine; 

Legends of Switzerland. 
Hardy, Mary E. : Indian Legends from Geyser-land (Yellowstone) . 
Hearn, Lafcadio: Kwaidan (Japan). 
Janvier, Thomas A. : Legends of the City of Mexico. 
JoHONNOT, James : Ten Great Events in History. 

Judson, Katharine B. : Myths of California and the Old Southwest; 
^^ Myths and Legends of the Great Plains; Myths and Legends of 

Alaska; Myths and Legends of the Pacific Northwest. 
Lang, Andrew : True Story Book. 

McMuRRY, Charles A. : Pioneers of the Mississippi Valley. 
Perry, F. M., and Beebe, Katherine : Four American Pioneers. 
Pitman, Leila Webster : Stories^of Old France. 
Skinner, Charles M. : American Myths and Legends; Myths and 

Legends beyond Our Borders (Mexico and Peru). 
Smith, Bertha H. : Yosemite Legends. 
Warren, Henry Pitt (Ed.) : Stories from English History. 
Westervelt, H. D. : Legends of Old Honolulu. 



CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

Story-Telling to Intensify Interest in Nature 

Study 

NATURE study, as a formal subject in the ele- 
mentary schools, is often uninteresting to the 
child, because many teachers think that there the 
bare truth should prevail, and present information 
concerning the sciences as a series of dry, emasculated 
facts. The result is indifference toward what might 
be a keen pleasure, and sometimes even distaste for it. 
Rut if the nature lesson is presented in a manner that 
brings vivid pictures to the mind of the child, if he 
is given some vision of what cannot be understood 
by mere description, it becomes a living reality, and not 
only fixes information that is the foundation for scien- 
tific study later, but enlarges the emotional life and 
quickens the imagination. It gives him a feehng of 
close contact with nature and makes him so responsive 
to its varied life, moods, and aspects, that he comes to 
love it. 

Those who understand nature love it more than those 
who do not. The man who knows the ehn, the beech, 
the hemlock, and various other forest bretlu-en, finds 
a pleasure in the woods that is impossible to him to 
whom a tree is just a tree. The latter is like Peter 
Rell, of whom Wordsworth wrote : 

A primrose by a river's brim 
A yellow primrose was to him, 
And it was nothing more. 

He goes on his way thinking that trees are good for 
lumber, to produce shade and break the force of winds 

178 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 179 

that might otherwise bhght his crops, but he has httle 
conception of how they affect human happiness and 
human Ufe. When tired and nerve worn, he does not 
yearn for the peace of the redwoods, but for some 
artificial stimulus in a city distant from the one in 
which he has his cares. Why? Because he was not 
born with a love of nature that is as rare as genius, 
and was not fortunate enough to be led along the path 
on which it is acquired. That there are many men 
and women of this type is proved by the ruthless way 
in which our forests have been destroyed, by the 
abuse of privileges in pubhc parks and gardens, by 
the way in which trees are slaughtered in city streets. 
It is certain that love of nature is not born with every 
one, and that what is the fortunate heritage of the 
few must be instilled into the many. This can be done, 
and it can be done through story-teUing. The careless 
child; the unobservant child, to whom a flower is just 
a flower or a bird a bunch of feathers, can be led to 
open his eyes and see what he did not see before, 
while the one who has already found joy in the life of 
field and stream wiU respond with intense pleasure 
because a new and roseate hght is flashed upon what is 
already familiar. 

Children learn to love nature just as they learn to 
love a picture, a dog, or a swimming hole, through 
experience with it that gives joyous results. The 
country lad, whose Saturdays and vacation days are 
associated with cowshps, dragon flies, and quiet hours 
beside a trout stream casting a line for the elusive 
catch, is not likely to find schoolroom nature study 
a dull subject, because, through hours of enjoyment, 



180 Educating by Story-Telling 

he is equipped with an emotional and imaginative 
background that gives color to every fact presented. 
But he who has not had this opportunity, who knows 
as httle of wild life as a cormorant knows of the Colorado 
crags, will not respond eagerly to a series of facts, 
because experience has not previously aroused his 
imagination concerning them, and he cannot compre- 
hend their mystery and wonder. If these facts are 
presented through the medium of the story, if they 
depict the life of the open as vividly as some painting 
that meets the eye, they will give pleasure and furnish 
incentive for further investigation. They will not 
only awaken the uninformed child to a realization of 
the wonders and delights nature holds for him, but 
they will give the other, more fortunate child additional 
pleasure, just as a favorite fairy tale does when told 
again and again by one who loves it and can make its 
moods his own. 

This does not mean that all information should be 
presented through the medium of the story. The 
story should be used only to give such information as 
is natural to the story form. But nature study can be 
wonderfully illuminated by the story, because many 
of the truths of science do lend themselves to plot, 
and where they have been put in parallel literary form, 
they are as replete with beauty and imagery as the 
fairy tale, and afford the fancy as free play as do the 
adventures of sprites and goblins. The marvel of the 
brown bulb or seed metamorphosing into the bril- 
liant-hued blossom, of the homely caterpillar evolving 
into a bit of flying color, of the majestic movements 
of stars and planets through worlds remote but as 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 181 

exquisitely constructed as our own, fascinates the child 
and furnishes wide, untrammeled avenues along which 
his imagination may roam. There is almost no branch 
of science that is not rich in material for the story-teller. 
Dr. Carrel, the great French speciahst, once said that 
some day an artist will arise who will weave the facts 
concerning the circulation of the blood into a tale as 
fascinating as any conte from the Arabian Nights. 

It is not hkely that physiology will ever be the nucleus 
of stories to give to children in the early years of school 
hfe, but Dr. Carrel's words hold a valuable hint for the 
narrator, who should not fail to draw from truth as 
freely as he draws from myth and fable. An overdose 
of one kind of food, no matter how wholesome, dis- 
arranges the digestive apparatus, and an overdose of 
one kind of literature makes a one-sided man. There 
are some facts to show that a too free feeding on fairy 
tales has led to crooked thinking and susceptibihty 
to superstition, and the story-teller should balance 
his work in improbable tales with those of fact that 
fire the imagination because of the marvels related in 
them. 

This is not so difficult as it may seem, for many 
of the truths of science have been put into simple 
language by men who were poet enough to bring to 
children something of their mystery and beauty, and 
there is no dearth of books that can be used with 
gratifying results by workers among children as young 
as those of six to nine years. Part of the story of 
evolution is enjoyed in this period. The boy in the 
age of fancy is fascinated by listening to an account 
of early man's struggle with nature, and tales of the 



182 Educating by Story-Telling 

tree dwellers, of cave and cliiF dwellers, of the discovery 
of fire and the adventures of the first wanderers, mean 
as much to him as any fairy tale, because they have 
the very characteristic that makes the fairy tale delight- 
ful — an element of mystery that permits the fancy 
to roam unchecked. 

Older children revel in the truths of science, if they 
are presented in story form. Take, for instance, David 
Starr Jordan's "Story of a Stone." Where is there a 
fairy tale more fascinating than this narrative of "a 
bit of petrified honeycomb," plowed up by a Wisconsin 
husbandman as he made ready to sow his winter wheat ? 
The style and language have the charm of Andersen, 
the plot is as well sustained as that of any Thuringian 
folk tale collected by Grimm, and it begins as fairy 
t£Jes have begun since the beginning of time : 

Once upon a time, a great many years ago, so many, 
many years that one grows very tired in trying to think 
how long ago it was ; in those old days when the great North- 
west consisted of a few ragged and treeless hills, full of 
copper and quartz and bordered by a dreary waste of sand 
flats, over which the Gulf of Mexico rolled its warm and 
turbid waters as far north as Escanaba and Eau Claire ; in 
the days when Marquette harbor opened out toward Baffin's 
Bay, and the northern ocean washed the crest of Mount 
Washington and wrote its name on the pictured rocks; 
when the tide of the Pacific, hemmed in by no snow-capped 
Sierras, came rushing through the Golden Gate between the 
Ozarks and the northern peninsula of Michigan, swept over 
Plymouth Rock, and surged up against Bunker Hill ; in the 
days when it would have been fun to study geography, 
because there were no capitals, nor any products, and all 
the towns were seaports, — in fact, an immensely long 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 183 

time ago, there lived somewhere in the northeastern part of 
Wisconsin a httle jellyfish. 

Dr. Jordan has also woven into story form informa- 
tion concerning the animal life of sea and stream, of 
a mother and baby seal, in the dehghtful tale of " Matka 
and Kotik," and there is not a boy or a girl in the heroic 
period who does not listen eagerly to the adventures of 
a salmon, "a curious little fellow, not half an inch long, 
with great, staring eyes which made almost half his 
length, and with a body so transparent that he could 
not cast a shadow." The account of the battle of the 
fish there under the ripples of the Cowhtz, the beginning 
of the eventful journey down the river, the merry 
conflict with the herring and the terrible one with the 
sea Uons, swimming always and always, growing larger 
and more daring, and having in his watery realm as 
many adventures as bold Robin had in his greenwood, 
hold the children from the beginning to the end of the 
story. They sympathize as he struggles up the stream 
again, "growing poor and ragged and tired," and 
through his life and adventures they come to have an 
interest in the world of fishes that they will not have 
without the tale. Such stories demonstrate the fact 
that information concerning the sciences can be put 
into fascinating story form, and every worker with 
young folk should endeavor to present some of it 
through this dehghtful medium. 

The child will find such tales far more appeahng than 
the so-called nature stories in which animals are over- 
personified and in which they meet man in situations 
that every intelhgent boy or girl knows are impossible. 
A lad is not brought into harmony with nature by being 



184 Educating by Story-Telling 

given yarns that caricature nature, and many of the 
modern nature stories do this very thing. Children 
know that a wild bear does not walk into a little girl's 
flower garden, and then pohtely say "I am sorry" 
and back out because the small mistress of the garden 
is kind and instead of throwing stones at him explains 
in elegant Enghsh that it is rude to go into another's 
property unbidden. They know that animals and 
children do not converse together in the same language, 
and that bears do not have courses in ethics. The 
nature story that fascinates the child must be true to 
nature's laws. He may listen to some of the sugary, 
impossible yarns written to point a moral, but they do 
not give him keen pleasure, and because they are 
ridiculous in his eyes, he draws no lesson from them. 
One of the aims of story-telling is to give ethical in- 
struction, but there is a wealth of tales that reflect 
nature and life correctly that should be used for this 
purpose, and the facts of science should not be dis- 
torted in an attempt to emphasize a lesson. 

Tales pervaded by over-sentimentaHsm will not 
stir deep response in children. This is why the nature 
story that is true to the facts of science is the one that 
interests the boy or girl. It is like the racial tale, 
full of conflict, of temporary defeat and final triumph. 
The young salmon grown old, struggling up Snake 
River to the foot of the Bitter Root Mountains, was 
sore of muscle and unsightly of skin, and his tail was 
frayed and torn, but the desire of his nature was ful- 
filled at last. He scooped out a nest and covered 
the eggs of his companion, and then, because the work 
of his life was done, was free to drift downstream. 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 185 

Such stories give insight into nature and engender 
a love of nature ; and besides quickening the imagina- 
tion and enriching the emotional hfe, they help to give 
stabihty to the child character, because through them 
he learns the workings of certain inexorable laws. 

There is such a vast amount of material to use in 
teaching nature study, that the suggestions and bibli- 
ography given in this chapter can by no means be 
comprehensive. In the realm of geology there is the 
story of limestone, of slate, of quartz and granite, of 
rock salt and sandstone, and particularly interesting 
to the child is the story of coal. For him it abounds 
in color, and beautiful indeed are the pictures that 
he sees as he hstens to this narrative of the carbon- 
iferous forests that grew in the beginning of time, of 
the lush, dank swamps of the Permian or Triassic or 
Miocene Period, and the strange animal hfe that peopled 
them. From astronomy and botany one may glean 
as much as from geology, while entomology, zoology, 
and ichthyology hold untold dehghts for the child. 

A wonderful science story is that of the coral polyp, 
building from some submerged cliff or crag until a little 
island rises above the blue water. In my own child- 
hood it meant as much as ever a fairy tale meant, and 
I can still feel the pleasure I experienced the first time I 
heard it. It is full of mystery and wonder, and a story 
of rare beauty for the child. I have used it often in 
story-telhng, and it never fails to bring enthusiastic 
response; and very popular with the children is this 
song of the insect builders, of which I do not know 
the authorship, but which is one of the fragrant mem- 
ories of my childhood : 



186 Educating by Story-Telling 

Far down in the depths of the deep blue sea, 
An insect train works ceaselessly ; 
Moment by moment and day by day, 
Never stopping to rest or play, 
Rock upon rock they are rearing high, 
Till the top looks out on the sunny sky : 
The gentle winds and the balmy air 
Little by little bring verdure there, 
Till the summer sunbeams gayly smile 
On the birds and flowers of the little isle. 

Older children enjoy hearing about the different 
forms of coral, of the characteristics of that of the 
Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean, and of the 
Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic. They enjoy, too, 
hearing about the coral industry, of the fishing for it 
along the shores of Africa, of the departure of the 
seekers from Sicily, of the Feast of the Coral Fishers 
that is such a picturesque feature of the island life, of 
the polishing and carving and preparing the product 
for trade ; they like the legend the southern Italians 
teU of how the first medallion in Sicily was made as 
an offering of gratitude by a fisher lad to the young 
Princess of Naples. From beginning to end the coral 
story is a narrative that charms the child, and it is 
but one of the forms of sea fife, which holds rich oppor- 
tunities for the narrator, while sea life is but one of 
the fields of science from which he can glean with splen- 
did results. In fact, the possibilities for story work 
in the teaching of science are almost beyond imagining 
until one begins to survey the field and enumerate 
sources of material, and the story-teller will be re- 
stricted in it only by her ability to organize material 
and present it to the children in story form. 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 187 

Sometimes writers, thinking they will make nature 
stories more enjoyable to boys and girls, people them 
with supernatm-al folk who are supposed to be re- 
sponsible for the marvels that occur in them. It is 
a practice that scientists decry, and it is condemned by 
all who believe that a story fit to give to children 
must be worthy of the name of hterature, and con- 
sequently, whether fact or fiction, must be true in 
spirit. The tale that portrays a fairy up in the sky 
keeping the planets in motion like so many checkers 
on a board, or one in which enchanted creatures bury 
their beads in the ground, causing them to send up 
roses and Hlies and other beautiful blossoms, is not a 
nature story. It may be a charming fanciful tale, 
but it should not be given to teach the truths of 
science. Science stories, .like Bible stories, need no 
sugar coating to make them attractive. When given 
as stories, and not as a string of facts, they Eire full of 
suspense, and accounts of actual happenings in star 
land, under the waves, or deep in the earth are as 
fascinating to the child as the fancied ones of nature's 
forces were to primitive man in the forest, when he 
crept close to the tribal story-teller and in big-eyed, 
wondering awe sought to know the meaning of the great 
globule that gleamed in the sky by day and the number- 
less tiny ones that gleamed there by night. The prim- 
itive animal tale, which gives early man's belief as to 
how certain creatures came by their characteristics, 
is very interesting to the child, and while in a broader 
sense it belongs to the field of geography, my own 
experience has been that if told in connection with 
animals or flowers studied, it is received with enthu- 



188 Educating by Story-Telling 

siasm by boys and girls. But the child should under- 
stand that these narratives are primitive man's con- 
ception, and that the science stories are the real " why" 
and "how" stories. 

THE WONDERFUL BUILDERS 

Out in the heart of the Pacific, far out where the blue 
waves roll their shining masses between Samoa and the Aus- 
tralian mainland, where the brown-skinned islanders and the 
white-winged sea birds seem always happy, a little animal 
floated around one day, floated from among the shoals of 
Tutuila toward the open sea. It was a tiny creature, and 
as curious as it was tiny, for it looked more hke a spot of 
clear jelly than anything else, and its name was Polyp. 

Quite lazily it floated about in the water, now under a 
stretch of seaweed, all purple and opalescent like ropes of 
wonderful colors, now through the clear, bright current 
past the gaping mouth of a shark. But the shark, although 
always on the watch for something to devour, did not get 
the little polyp, and soon it came to a submerged rock deep 
under the waves. This seemed a very good resting place, 
and there the polyp stayed. 

Days passed, weeks lengthened into months, and still 
the polyp kept to its place on the under-sea rock. But it 
was not drowsing and sleeping like a lazy creature. It was 
busily at work, for the very minute it landed on the rock 
it decided to make a house. 

• Now you must not think that it could not work, because, 
although it did look like a drop of jeUy and was small and 
curious, it was alive. It had arms, very, very tiny arms, 
finer than the finest silk thread in your mother's workbasket, 
and so thin and delicate looking that nobody could see them. 
But those arms were stronger than they looked, and with 
them it held on to the rock tight and fast. 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 189 

Then, what a queer house-making I The httle, jellyhke 
body began to swell. It raised itself up in the shape of a 
tube, and around the edge of the tube came a little rim. 
This rim was the beginning of the house of the polyp. 

The waves rolled on. The sun beat down brightly and 
hotly as it always beats down in the South Sea country, 
and then came another change. A knot rose in the middle 
of the jelly, and out of that knot reached a mouth and feelers. 

Now the work began in earnest. The polyp began to eat, 
to eat as greedily as a boy who has had not a bit for a whole 
day. It took in chalk and phosphorus from the sea food 
that came its way, yet it seemed never to get enough, and 
aU the while the little feelers kept reaching out for more 
food and pouring it into the open mouth. As it ate, the 
chalk it took in piled around the httle rim, which I told you 
was the beginning of the house, and although the polyp 
wanted much to hold some of that nice chalk food in its mouth 
long enough to get the full taste, it could not. The white 
substance went right down and piled up on the rim ; so it 
is no wonder that the httle creature was always hungry. 

WeU, it ate and it ate. The rim kept growing and growing, 
as of course it must with so much chalk piling up on it, 
and as the house grew higher and higher the polyp kept 
moving to the top. The part below was hard and white 
hke stone, and still the polyp kept eating, eating, and build- 
ing, building. 

For a long time it kept on, until finally it died. Then 
one day another drop of living jelly floated that way, and 
finding the chalk house of the other polyp, stopped there and 
began building on top of it. The waves rolled on. The 
sun shone, and all the while the house went steadily higher. 
Other polyps too came and began building beside and above 
it, and as they died they left their hard, white homes behind 
them as the first polyp had done. Others and still others 
came, until, as many, many years passed, the chalk houses 



190 Educating by Story-Telling 

reached the top of the water and men called them an 
island. 

The waves roUed by. Seaweed drifted that way and 
lodged itself on the chalk reefs. It decayed and turned to 
soil. Sometimes the water and sometimes the wind brought 
bits of plant and seed from some other older islands, until 
at last there were flowers and trees and birds singing in the 
brgmches. 

Now the ships of the world sail by, going toward China 
or Australia or to the American shores far, far away, 
and sometimes they stop at the Uttle island, and sometimes 
those on board rest there among the palms and think it so 
delightful a land that they wish they never had to go away, 
but might stay there always and always. Yet but for a 
wee, curious sea creature that island would not be, for it 
had its beginning in a tiny animal, more like a drop of 
jelly than anything else, that floated one day between Samoa 
and the AustraUan mainland, and made its house upon a 
bit of submerged rock. 



Story-Telling and Interest in Nature Study 191 
Sources of Material for Science Stories 

Beard, James Carter : Humor in Animals. 

Bergen, Fanny Dickerson : Plant Work. 

Burroughs, John : Squirrels and Other Fur-bearers. 

Collins, Archie Frederick : The Book of Stars. 

CoMSTOCK, John Henry : Insect Life. 

Du Chaillu, Paul B. : The World of the Great Forest. 

Fabre, Henri: Insect Adventures; The Life of a Fly; The Hunting 

Wasps; The Mason Bees; The Life of a Caterpillar. 
Frye, Alexis Everett : Brooks and Brook Basins. 
Grinnell, Joseph and Elizabeth : Birds of Song and Story. 
Grinnell, Morton : Neighbors of Field, Wood, and Stream. 
Groos, Karl: The Play of Animals. 

Hawkes, Clarence: Shovelhorns : The Biography of a Moose. 
Holder, Charles F. : Stories of Animal Life. 
Ingersoll, Ernest : Wild Life of Orchard and Field. 
Jordan, David Starr : Science Sketches. 
Lea, John : The Romance of Bird Life. 
Miles, Aured H. : Animal Anecdotes. 
Miller, Ellen B. : Butterfly and Moth Book. 
MoRLEY, Margaret W. : Butterflies and Bees. 
Porter, -Gene Stratton : Moths of the Limberlost. 
Porter, Jermain G. : Stars in Song and Legend. 
Boberts, Charles G. D. : Earth's Enigmas; Haunters of the Silences; 

Kindred of the Wild; Kings in Exile. 
Thompson, Jeanette May : Water Wonders Every Child Should 

Know. 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

Story-Telling in Domestic Science and Manual 

Training 

PEOPLE are likely to smile when a story-telling 
enthusiast suggests that his art will intensify the 
interest in manual training and domestic science, but 
a little investigation usually convinces them that this 
contention is not merely a wild theory. Cooking and 
sewing and wood, metal, and leather working each has 
an interesting story, and through understanding how 
these crafts originated and how they have developed 
with the progress of the race, he comes to have an 
appreciation of their true dignity and value. In a 
broad sense these tales belong to the field of history 
and geography, for domestic science and manual train- 
ing have a background in history and present-day 
geography. But since the school gives them as sepa- 
rate subjects, a consideration of story materieds touch- 
ing them will be valuable to teachers of these subjects. 
It is a far cry from the first roast meat of primitive 
man, discovered by accident to be more delectable 
than that untouched by heat, to the banquet of the 
twentieth-century gourmet, but they are chapters of 
the same tale, each intervening portion of which is 
interesting. There seems to be no relation between the 
grass skirt of the prehistoric belle and the creations of 
Worth or Paquin, but they are hnks in the same chain, 
beads strung upon the same thread, as are the rush 
mats of the cave woman and the rugs of Teheran. 
There are dozens of stories to give to girls that wiU 
increase their interest and deUght in household crafts. 

192 



Domestic Science and Manual Training 193 

Tales of the lace makers of Italy and Spain, of medieval 
tapestry weavers, of dower chests of Em"opean peasant 
maids, the contents of which pass from generation to 
generation, of royal costumers and com't tailors, their 
problems, patience, and artistry, all tend to give a 
touch of romance to something many girls are inchned 
to hold in contempt. They enjoy hearing about cook- 
ery in foreign lands, of ways of serving meals that are 
very different from our own, and no one is more amused 
by Lamb's "Dissertation on Roast Pig" than she who 
deals with problems of roasting and baking. 

Domestic-science girls who are told something of the 
legends clustering around various foodstuffs enjoy the 
cooking class more than those who hear nothing but 
lectures on chemistry, dietetics, and comparative nu- 
tritive values, and they take more pleasure in prepar- 
ing a meal because they know stories about the various 
dishes that comprise that meal. 

This is no unproved theory, but one that has been 
tried successfully with a group of fourteen-year-old 
girls, who took keener dehght in bread making after 
being told of the bakers of Nuremberg and who brewed 
coffee with more interest when they knew the tale of 
how Arabians discovered the use of coffee. 

There are stories of wood, metal, and leather workers 
that should be given to every boy, not only because 
they throw new light upon what he is doing and add 
interest to it, but because they lead him to respect 
those who toil with their hands. Stories of medieval 
carving, of house building in different lands and ages, 
now of the brush hut of the Australian aborigine, now 
of the workmanship in the palace of a sultan or czar ; 



194 Educating by Story-Telling 

of the poet craftsmen of Nuremberg, of the pottery 
making of the Aztecs, of the building of Venice upon 
piles hewn from Tyrolean forests, these and dozens of 
kindred subjects are rich in materials that will give 
children pleasure and knowledge. To the boy or girl 
who loves the work in manual training and domestic 
science they bring additional pleasure, while in the in- 
different they awaken interest; and, moreover, the 
snobbish child who is inchned to think handcraft be- 
neath his respect, will be led to see that the carpenter 
who strives to make each effort more worthy than the 
preceding one, or the housewife who puts the best of 
herself into the preparation of a meal, is in the same 
class with Phidias or Shakespeare in earnestness of 
purpose, even though not in results, and is as deserving 
of honor. The first step toward success with these 
branches is to dignify them in the eyes of children, and 
nothing accomphshes this as effectually and rapidly as 
the story. To know that the crafts were worthy of 
the best efforts of those of other times and lands is to 
make them feel they are worthy also of their best 
effort. 

There is another reason why these stories should be 
told. In the midst of the agitation in favor of voca- 
tional training, the force of which is sweeping away and 
modifying some of the old educational standards, there 
is danger that in catering to the demand for the prac- 
tical in schools we neglect that which conduces to 
dreams and ideals. 

A man may advance beyond the ranks of a journey- 
man joiner and make a good living if he has no thought 
beyond the work of each day as it dawns, but with- 



Domestic Science and Manual Training 195 

out vision he cannot become the master builder, and 
romance is the corner stone upon which the temple of 
vision stands. The palaces of old Hellas were built to 
strains of music, for the beauty-loving Greeks knew 
that melody gave men lofty thoughts, and believed 
work performed to its accompaniment would be of 
higher order than that performed without it. Bands 
were hired to play as the toilers worked, and boys who 
were to become builders were inspired to emulate the 
efforts of great craftsmen by being told stories of their 
achievement. In our day we cannot expect the state 
to provide bands and symphony orchestras to inspire 
toilers, but during the days of their apprenticeship we 
can give them tales that will have a tendency to glorify 
their chosen craft. We can cause them to feel that 
only the best efforts of hand and brain are fit to go into 
this craft, because it is a monument to the memory of 
those who Hved and died in its ranks, and that every 
worthy effort of each succeeding toiler helps to make 
that monument nobler and more enduring. 

THE DERVISH OF MOCHA 
Retold from an Arabian Folk Tale 

The dervish Hadji Omar was a fortunate man. No one 
of his day was so well versed in lore of the ancients and in 
the knowledge of his own time, no one was so highly esteemed 
by his people or so loved and trusted by the caliph. At 
every royal banquet he sat in a seat of honor, and whenever 
he went through the streets of Mocha the populace shouted, 
"Hail, Omar!" 

But there came a time when the fortunes of the dervish 



196 Educating by Story-Telling 

changed. One afternoon as he sat in the court garden he 
heard a conversation that dismayed him. Beyond the palm 
trees that screened him from their sight, the cahph and his 
council were planning how to defraud the common people 
and enrich themselves. Hadji Omar listened, grieved, and 
that night went to his friend, told what he had heard, and 
tried to dissuade him from a course of dishonor. 

Then the caliph forgot all the happy hours he had spent 
with the dervish, forgot that he had loved him even as a 
brother, and remembered only that the dervish was trying 
to interfere in his plan. He flew into a rage and declared 
that Omar should be exiled from Mocha, and that a price 
would be upon his head should he ever return. Never again 
should he sit at the royal banquet table. Never again should 
he pass through the streets amid cries and calls of endear- 
ment. He should live in the wilds like a hunted creature 
and get his food as the birds of the field get theirs. 

So out from the city that he loved went the wise and 
righteous dervish. He took the camel trail into the desert, 
and after a time came to an oasis where he stayed. A 
miserable existence he had there, because few food plants 
grew in the spot. Sometimes a caravan came by, and a 
merchant or camel driver pitied him and gave him dates or 
milk. But sometimes he had nothing to eat, and always 
his meals were so scanty that he grew thin and weak and 
haggard. 

One day — he had been a long time without food and was 
faint from hunger — he found some berries growing on a 
tree beside a spring. They were so bitter that he could 
not eat them ; so he tried the experiment of roasting them 
over the coals. This made them more palatable, but still 
they were viciously hard. Hadji Omar was so hungry that 
he was wiUing to do any amount of work to get food ; so he 
boiled the berries, hoping they would soften. Still they 
were hard, but he managed to eat a few of them and drank 



Domestic Science and Manual Training 197 

of the water. His hunger and fatigue seemed gone, and he 
realized he had made a great discovery. 

Hastening back to the city, he told the guard his story 
and was allowed to go into the presence of the cahph. There 
he produced some of the roasted berries, which were boiled 
according to his direction, and the governor and council 
drank of the water. They pronounced it a kingly beverage, 
and the decree went forth that Hadji Omar was to go free. 

Thereafter he lived with the caliph, who loved and trusted 
him as before and led a more exemplary life because of the 
influence of the goodly dervish. 

Hadji Omar was honored during his remaining years, and 
after his death was revered as a saint, not only because he 
was wise and righteous, but because he discovered to Arabia 
the beverage of the coffee berry. 

Sources of Material to Use in Domestic Science and 
Manual Training 

Clinch, George : English Costume from Prehistoric Times to the End 

of the Eighteenth Century. 
GoLDENBERG, Samuel L. : Loce, Its Origin and History. 
Knight, James : Food and Its Functions. 
Lowes, Emily Leigh : Chats on Old Lace and Needlework. 
Morse, Frances Clary : Furniture of the Olden Time. 
Norton, Edith Eliza : Rugs in their Native Land. 
Planche, James Robinson : History of British Costume. 
Ransom, Caroline Louise : Studies in Ancient Furniture. 
Singleton, Esther : Furniture of Our Forefathers. 
Stories of the Ancient World Retold from St. Nicholas (Clothing). 



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
Does the Work of the Story-Teller Pay? 

AND now arises the question, Does all this effort on 
the part of the story-teller pay ? Is it worth the 
labor required for the domestic-science supervisor, the 
manual-arts director, the music, literature, geography, 
or history teacher, to prepare stories that touch upon 
his work? That question can best be answered by 
estimating results. 

As stated in the opening chapter of Part One, story- 
telhng can simplify the entire education problem. It 
will create noble ideas in boys and girls of today just 
as it created ideals and established standards in those 
of the past. It will arouse an ambition to live and to 
achieve so that they may be worthy of the emulation 
of children of the future even as they emulate the 
heroes of days gone by. In no other way can such 
deep desire be awakened as through story hearing and 
reading. In no other way do children realize so com- 
pletely the truth of Longfellow's words : 

Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 

And, departing, leave behind us 
Footprints on the sands of time. 

Yet in many homes story-teUing is almost unknown 
because the mother does not deem it of sufficient value 
to make some sacrifice of her time and provide for it. 
She does not know that the story-telling mothers of 
the past have been those whose children have risen 
up and called them blessed; that the confidence of 

198 



Does the Work of the Story-Teller Pay? 199 

their boys and girls, won around the fireside as old- 
time tales were told, has been held unshaken to the 
end. 

The force that in the long ago moved men to great 
achievement has lost none of its power. Twentieth- 
century children respond to stories as eagerly as did 
boys and girls by the sea of Hellas when Greece was 
young, as they did in medieval castle hall to the 
strains of minnesinger and harper, because child 
nature does not change. The story hour in the home 
is a formidable rival of the street and the nickelodeon, 
and the teacher whose fund of tales is large and who 
tells them joyously has little trouble with discipHne. 
Her charges know that she holds the key to Magic 
Land, and that if they are good she will open the gate. 
They remember her with affection, and best of all 
remember the dreams that came into being under her 
spell. She is queen of her little realm through the 
royal right of the minstrel, and no pretender can dis- 
lodge her from her throne in the hearts that she has 
won. 

Yet some school officials, men of education and 
refinement, regeird story-telling as a very good means 
of entertaimnent, but unworthy of a place in the curric- 
ulum, and when urged to include it ask, "Does it 
pay?" 

If it is worth anything to make formed schoolroom 
subjects joyous instead of boresome, then story- telling 
pays; if it is necessary to give the child something 
that mil be a perennial rainbow in his soul, some- 
thing that will keep him sweet and full of faith and 
hope when disappointments come and illusions go, 



200 Educating by Story-Telling 

that will cause him to laugh at age even in the time of 
white hairs and wrinkles, then story-teUing is vitally 
necessary. He cannot grow bitter who possesses 
Aladdin's lamp. Dark skies may lower over his head 
and the thunder crash ominously about him, but if 
the seeds of romance have been planted in his soul, if 
poesy has been nurtured into flower there by the world's 
best stories heard in his youth, he will retain, even in 
the midst of blackness and tempest, a vision of tur- 
quoise skies beliind the clouds, a dream of sun-kissed 
fields where grow everlasting flowers of fragrance and 
beauty. 

Is the reward to the worker not worth the price ? 
One guerdon lies in the thought that he who joins the 
ranks of story-teUers becomes a member of a glorious 
company, one with which the greatest souls of the 
world were not unwilKng to be identified. Goethe 
never felt it beneath his dignity to gather a group of 
children about him and delight them with a tale, and 
nothing speaks more eloquently of the sweetness of 
Verdi's nature than one of his letters to his librettist 
that relates how, in his visits back to the hill town 
where he was born, it gladdened liim to see gamins 
swarm from every quarter, exclaiming, "Una favola, 
signor, una favola !" 

"He is a happy man," says Chateaubriand, "who 
keeps through a turbulent lifetime the heart of a child, 
who carries with him to the end of his journey some of 
the illusions stored up in his youth, for contact with 
envy and calumny and deception are apt to cause them 
to take flight." The author of Faust and the creator 
of Otello each had his share of brushing against the 



Does the Work of the Story- Teller Pay? 201 

things that make men bitter. They had sounded the 
depths of discouragement and disappointment, yet 
they had the hearts of children, and who knows but 
that teUing stories to children had something to do 
with keeping them young? During Verdi's period of 
struggle and heartbreak, when Milan jeered at his 
compositions and critics declared him a man of no 
talent, when obstacles piled so high it seemed beyond 
mortal power to remove them, when no one in the city 
but himself and his wife believed in him, instead of 
becoming sour and worthless, as any but a granitic 
nature like his would have done, he returned to his 
native highlands and told stories to children who 
thought him more wonderful than a king ; then he went 
back to his labor strong and fit. Forgetting himself in 
delighting the village bambinos bolstered up his cour- 
age and his faith and helped to make him an exuberant 
giver. Perhaps the present-day story-teller, like that 
master at Roncone, if he approach his work reverently 
and keep in mind a thought of what it has meant to 
the world, may receive as much as he gives. 



STORIES FOR TELLING 
THE STORY OF THE MAN IN THE MOON 

(Alsatian Folk Tale — Christmas Story — Ethics, teaching 

honesty) 

The man in the moon was once a merry peasant, who 
ever so long ago hved quite amicably with his good wife 
and children, and had a hut with a wooden floor and a roof 
whose thatch was as thick as any in the village. Always 
there was plenty of black bread and goat's milk, and some- 
times on Sundays or holidays the family felt rich enough to 
afford a bit of pork. But one Holy Night that peasant 
turned dishonest, and then something happened. 

"What shall we have for the Christmas feast?" asked 
his wife, who was fat and jolly. "Shall it be our good rye 
bread and a fine joint of meat ? " 

"To be sure," the merry husband answered, "but that is 
not enough. There shall be cabbage too." 

At his words the wife opened her mouth so wide that it 
looked like a big round window in her face. 

"Cabbage!" she gasped. "Pray, how can that be, 
since we have not a leaf in the hut?" 

The peasant nodded in a knowing way and answered, 
"To be sure, there is none there now, but there will be by 
and by." 

Then he held his tongue as if he thought it unwise to talk 
too freely to a woman, took a basket, and went out of the 
door. His wife was much excited. She was sure he had 
some secret message from the fairies, for it was in that far- 
away time when strange and marvelous things happened. 

Down along the road the peasant hurried, smiling like a 
village maiden on the way to meet her sweetheart at the fair. 
Everywhere Ughts gleamed from the windows, and he laughed 
at the sight of them, for he knew people were inside, think- 
ing of the feast and the Holy Night. 

203 



204 Educating by Story-Telling 

"Which makes it safe for me," he murmured. On and 
on he went, never stopping until he came to a cabbage 
patch, the largest and finest in the village. They were 
bigger than his head, those cabbages, and every one of 
them belonged to the mayor, 

"But some shall go into my good wife's pot," he laughed 
as he saw them, and chmbing the fence he went into the 
patch and began to help himself. 

Then suddenly along the road came a child on a snow- 
white horse. He rode as if nothing could halt him, but 
seeing the man in the patch, he stopped and shouted, "What 
are you doing .»^" The peasant looked to right and left and 
began to stammer, "Just b-b-b-borrowing some of the 
m-m-m-mayor's cabbages," he replied, as he threw a plump 
one into his basket. 

The clear, strong tones rang out again, "You steal, and 
on the Holy Night too ! So you and your basket shall go 
to the moon." 

Then, whisk I Up the peasant started and never stopped 
until he came to the middle of the moon, and there he has 
stayed ever since. WTiether or not he ate the cabbages, no 
one knows, but he and his basket are there to this day, 
and every night when the moon is full you may see them. 



THE DISCONTENTED PIG 

{Thuringian Folk Tale — Ethics, teaching contentment) 

Ever so long ago, in the time when there were fairies, and 
men and animals talked together, there was a curly-tailed 
pig. He lived by himself in a house at the edge of the 
village, and every day he worked in his garden. Whether 
the sun shone or the rain feU he hoed and dug and weeded, 
turning the earth around his tomato vines and loosening 



stories for Telling 205 

the soil of the carrot plot, until word of his fine vegetables 
traveled through seven counties, and each year he won the 
royal prize at the fair. 

But after a time that little pig grew tired of the endless toil. 

"What matters it if I do have the finest vegetables in 
the kingdom," he thought, "since I must work myself to 
death getting them to grow ? I mean to go out and see the 
world and find an easier way of making a living." 

So he locked the door of his house and shut the gate of 
his gEuden and started down the road. 

A good three miles he traveled, till he came to a cottage 
almost hidden in a grove of trees. Lovely music sounded 
around him and Little Pig smiled, for he had an eai for 
sweet sounds. 

"I will go look for it," he said, following in the direction 
from which it seemed to come. 

Now it happened that in that house dwelt Thomas, a cat, 
who made his living playing on the violin. Little Pig saw 
him standing in the door pushing the bow up and down 
across the strings. It put a thought into his head. Surely 
tliis must be easier and far more pleasant than digging in a 
garden ! 

"Will you teach me to play the violin, friend cat?" he 
asked. 

Thomas looked up from his bow and nodded his head. 

"To be sure," he answered ; "just do as I am doing." 

And he gave him the bow and fiddle. 

Little Pig took them and began to saw, but squeak I 
quang ! No sweet music fell upon his ear. The sounds he 
heard were like the squealing of his baby brother pigs when 
a wolf came near them. 

" Oh ! " he cried ; "this isn't music ! " 

Thomas, the cat, nodded his head. 

" Of course not," he said. " You haven't tried long enough. 
He who would play the violin must work." ' 



206 Educating by Story-Telling 

"Then I think I'll look for something else," Piggywig 
answered, "because this is quite as hard as weeding my 
garden." 

And he gave back the bow and fiddle and started down 
the road. 

He walked on and on, until he came to a hut where lived 
a dog who made cheese. He was kneading and molding 
the curd into cakes, and Little Pig thought it looked quite 
easy. 

"I think I'd like to go into the cheese business myself," 
he said to himself. So he asked the dog if he would teach 
him. 

This the dog was quite willing to do, and a moment later 
Little Pig was working beside him. 

Soon he grew hot and tired and stopped to rest and fan 
himself. 

"No, no!" exclaimed the dog, "you will spoil the cheese. 
There can be no rest time until the work is done." 

Little Pig opened his eyes in amazement. 

"Indeed!" he replied. "Then this is just as hard as 
growing vegetables or learning to play a violin. I mean to 
look for something easier." 

And he started down the road. 

On the other side of the river, in a sweet green field, a 
man was taking honey out of beehives. Little Pig saw him 
as he crossed the bridge and thought that of all the trades 
he had seen, this suited him best. It must be lovely there 
in the meadow among the flowers. Honey was not heavy 
to lift, and once in a while he could have a mouthful of it. 
He ran as fast as he could go to ask the man if he would 
take him into his employ. 

This plan pleased the bee man as much as it pleased the 

pig. 

"I've been looking for a helper for a year and a day," 
he said. "Begin work at once." 



stories for Telling 207 

He gave Little Pig a veil and a pair of gloves, telling him 
to fasten them on well. Then he told him to lift a honey- 
comb out of a hive. 

Little Pig ran to do it, twisting his cm^ly tail in the joy 
of having at last found a business that suited him. But 
buzz, buzz ! The bees crept under his veil and inside his 
gloves. They stung him on his fingers, his mouth, his ears, 
and the end of his nose, and he squealed and dropped the 
honey and ran. 

" Come back, come back ! " the man called. 

"No, no!" Little Pig answered with a big squeal. "No, 
no, the bees hurt me!" 

The man nodded his head. 

"Of course they do," he said. "They hurt me too! 
That is part of the work. You cannot be a beekeeper with- 
out getting stung." 

Little Pig bhnked his beady eyes and began to think hard. 

"It seems that every kind of work has something un- 
pleasant about it. To play the violin you must practice 
until your arm aches. When you make cheese you dare 
not stop a minute until the work is done, and in taking 
honey from a hive the bees sting you until your head is on 
fire. Work in my garden is not so bad after all, and I am 
going back to it." 

So he said good-by to the bee man and was soon back in 
his carrot patch. He hoed and raked and weeded, singing 
as he worked, and there was no more contented pig in all 
that kingdom. Every autumn he took his vegetables to 
the fair and brought home the royal prize, and sometimes, 
on holidays, the cat and the dog and the bee man came to 
call. 



208 Educating by Story-Telling 

THE BAT AND HIS PARTNERS 

{Old Bavarian Folk Tale — Helpful in Nature Study) 

Once upon a time a strange thing happened. A cormorant, 
a bat, and a bramble met at the mouth of the river Elbe 
one day and told a sorrowful story. Each was almost bank- 
rupt ; so they decided to postpone paying their debts, put 
their remaining possessions together, and share in the conse- 
quent weal or woe. 

They bought a merchant vessel, a ship large and strong, 
and so seaworthy it seemed it could sail to the nethermost 
parts of the Spanish Main. Wool was precious then as 
now, and in a country far away a hundredweight of sheep's 
fleece brought many a gold doubloon. So they freighted 
the vessel with the best wool that was to be had and joy- 
fully watched the white sails disappear in the pearl-gray 
mist. But a storm arose and angry winds dashed their 
galleon against demon-like rocks. Instead of reaching a 
distant land of gold doubloons the ship went to Davy 
Jones's locker, and her precious cargo made couches for the 
mermaids. 

Then sad indeed was the plight of these partners on the 
North Sea shore 1 Bailiffs began to sue them for payment 
of their debts, and ever since that time the bat has flown 
by night, for in no other way can he avoid his creditors. 
The cormorant, a solitary black figure, still broods beside 
the waves and dives into the sea, hoping to retrieve his 
shattered fortune, while the bramble has turned thief. 
Whenever a sheep goes by, he seizes a bit of the fleece, try- 
ing in this way to make up for the loss of the wool that went 
to the bottom of the Spanish Main instead of bringing him 
the gold of which he had dreamed. 



stories for Telling 209 

BRIER ROSE 
Retoud from Grimm 

(Wonder Tale) 

In olden times there lived a king and queen, who lamented 
day by day that they had no children ; and yet never a one 
was born. One day, as the queen was bathing and thinking 
of her wishes, a frog skipped out of the water and said to 
her: "Your wish shall be fulfilled. Before a year passes 
you shall have a daughter." 

As the frog had said, so it happened, and a little girl was 
born who was so beautiful that the king almost lost his 
senses ; but he ordered a great feast to be held, and invited 
to it not only his relatives, friends, and acquaintances, but 
also all the wise women who were kind and affectionate to 
children. There happened to be thirteen in his dominions, 
but since he had only twelve golden plates out of which 
they could eat, one had to stay at home. The feast was 
celebrated with all the magnificence possible, and, as soon 
as it was over, the wise women presented the infant with 
their wonderful gifts : one with virtue, another with beauty, 
a third with riches, and so on, so that the child had every- 
thing that is to be desired in the world. Just as eleven 
had given their presents, the thirteenth old lady stepped in 
suddenly. She was in a tremendous passion because she 
had not been invited, and, without greeting any one or look- 
ing at any one, she exclaimed loudly, "The princess shall 
prick herself with a spindle on her fifteenth birthday and 
shall die !" and without a word further she turned her back 
and left the hall. All were terrified, but the twelfth fairy, 
who had not yet given her wish, then stepped up. Because 
she could not take away the evil wish, but could only soften 
it, she said, "She shall not die, but shall fall into a sleep of 
a hundred years' duration." 



210 Educating by Story-Telling 

The king, who naturally wished to protect his child from 
this misfortune, issued a decree commanding that every 
spindle in the kingdom should be burnt. Meanwhile all 
the gifts of the wise women were fulfilled, and the maiden 
became so beautiful, gentle, virtuous, and clever, that 
every one who saw her fell in love with her. It happened 
on the day when she was just fifteen years old that the queen 
and the king were not at home, and so she was left alone in 
the castle. The maiden looked about in every place, going 
through all the rooms and chambers just as she pleased, 
until she came at last to an old tower. Up the narrow 
winding staircase she tripped until she arrived at a door, 
in the lock of which was a rusty key. This she turned, and 
the door sprang open, and there in the little room sat £ui 
old woman with a spindle, spinning flax. 

"Good day to you," said the princess, "what is this that 
you are doing here?" 

"I am spinning," said the old woman, nodding her head. 

"What thing is that which twists round so merrily?" in- 
quired the maiden, and she took the spindle to try her hand 
at spinning. Scarcely had she done so when the prophecy 
was fulfilled, for she pricked her finger ; and at the very 
same moment she fell back in a deep sleep upon a bed which 
stood near. This sleep extended over the whole palace. 
The king and queen, who had just come in, fell asleep in the 
hall, and all their courtiers with them ; the horses in the 
stables, the doves upon the eaves, the flies upon the walls, 
and even the fire upon the hearth, all ceased to stir; the 
meat which was cooking ceased to frizzle ; and the cook at 
the instant of pulling the hair of the kitchen boy lost his 
hold and began to snore, too. The wind also fell entirely, 
and not a leaf rustled on the trees round the castle. 

Now around the palace a thick hedge of briers began 
growing, which every year grew higher and higher, till the 
castle was quite hidden from view, so that one could not 



stories for Telling 211 

even see the flag upon the tower. Then there went a legend 
through the land, of the beautiful maiden Brier Rose, for 
so was the sleeping princess named, and from time to time 
princes came, endeavoring to penetrate through the hedge 
into the castle ; but it was not possible, for the thorns held 
them as if by hands, and the youths were unable to release 
themselves, and so perished miserably. 

After the lapse of many years, there came another king's 
son into the country, and heard an old man tell the legend 
of the hedge of briers ; how that behind it stood a castle 
where slept a wonderfully beauteous princess called Brier 
Rose, who had slumbered nearly a hundred years, and with 
her the queen and king and all their court. The old man 
further related what he had heard from his grandfather, 
that many princes had come and tried to penetrate the 
hedge, and had died a miserable death. But the youth was 
not to be daunted, and, however much the old man tried 
to dissuade him, he would not listen, but cried out, "I fear 
not, I will see this hedge of briers !" 

Just at that time came the last day of the hundred years, 
when Brier Rose was to wake again. As the young prince 
approached the hedge, the thorns turned to fine large flowers, 
which of their own accord made a way for him to pass 
through, and again closed up behind him. In the courtyard 
he saw the horses and dogs lying fast asleep, and on the 
eaves were the doves with their heads beneath their wings. 
As soon as he went into the house, there were the flies asleep 
upon the waU, the cook still stood with his hands on the hair 
of the kitchen boy, and the maid stood at the board with 
the unplucked fowl in her hand. He went on, and in the 
hall he found the courtiers lying asleep, and above, by the 
throne, were the king and queen. He went on farther, and 
all was so quiet that he could hear himself breathe, until 
at last he came to the tower and opened the door of the 
little room where slept Brier Rose. There she lay, looking 



212 Educating hy Story-Telling 

so beautiful that he could not turn away his eyes, and he 
bent over her and kissed her. Just as he did so she opened 
her eyes, awoke, and greeted him with smiles. Then they 
went down together, and immediately the king and queen 
awoke, and the whole court, and all stared at each other 
wonderingly. Now the horses in the stable got up and 
shook themselves ; the dogs wagged their tails ; the doves 
upon the eaves drew their heads from under their wings, 
looked around, and flew away ; the flies upon the walls 
began to crawl ; the fire began to burn brightly and to cook 
the meat ; the meat began again to frizzle ; the cook gave 
his lad a box upon the ear which made him call out ; and the 
maid began to pluck the fowl furiously. The whole palace 
was once more in motion as if nothing had occurred, for 
the hundred years' sleep had made no change in any one. 

By and by the wedding of the prince with Brier Rose was 
celebrated with great splendor, and to the end of their lives 
they lived happily and contented. 



THE COAT OF ALL COLORS 

Retold from Grimm 

(Thiiringian Wonder Tale) 

There was once a king whose wife had golden hair and 
was altogether so beautiful that her equal was not to be 
found in the world. It happened that she fell ill, and when 
she felt she must soon die she called the king and said, "If 
you marry again after my death, take no one who is not as 
beautiful as I have been, nor one who has not golden hair 
like mine, and this you must promise me." After the king 
had promised she closed her eyes, and soon died. 

For a long time the king would not be comforted and 
thought not of taking a second wife, but his councilors at 



stories for Telling 213 

last said that he must marry again. Then messengers 
were sent far and wide to seek a bride who should be as 
beautiful as the late queen, but there was no one to be found 
in the whole world so beautiful and with such golden hair. 
So the messengers returned home without accompUshing 
anything. 

Now the king had a daughter who was just as beautiful 
as her dead mother. She had also the same golden hair, and, 
as she grew up, the king saw how like she was to his lost 
wife. He told his councilors that he wished to marry his 
daughter to his oldest councilor, and that she should be as 
queen. When the oldest councilor heard this he was de- 
lighted. But the daughter was frightened at the resolve 
of the king, and hoped yet to turn him from his intention. 
So she said to him, "Before I fulfill your wish I must first 
have three dresses : one as golden as the sun, another as 
silver as the moon, and a third as shining as the stars; 
further, I desire a cloak composed of thousands of skins 
and hides, and to which every beast in your kingdom must 
contribute a portion of his skin." 

The princess thought this would be impossible to do, and 
so she should reclaim her father from his intention. But 
the king would not give it up, and the cleverest maidens 
in his kingdom had to weave the three dresses, one as golden 
as the sun, a second as silver as the moon, and a third as 
shining as the stars, while his huntsmen had to catch all the 
beasts in the whole kingdom and from each take a piece 
of skin wherewith a mantle of a thousand pieces was made. 
At length, when all was ready, the king let the mantle be 
fetched, and, spreading it before him, said, "Tomorrow 
shall the wedding be." 

When the king's daughter now saw that there was no hope 
left of turning her father from his resolve, she determined 
to flee away. In the night, while all slept, she got up and 
took three of her treasures, a golden ring, a gold spinning 



214 Educating by Story-Telling 

wheel, and a gold reel ; she put also in a nutshell the three 
dresses of the sun, moon, and stars, and putting on the 
mantle of all skins, she dyed her hands and face black with 
soot. Then, commending herself to God, she set off and 
traveled the whole night till she came to a large wood, where, 
feeling very tired, she took refuge in a hollow tree and went 
to sleep. The sun rose, and she still slept and slept on till 
it was again far into the morning. Then it happened that 
the king who owned this forest came to hunt in it. As 
soon as his dogs ran to the tree they snapped about it, 
barked, and growled, so that the king said to his huntsmen, 
"See what wild animal it is that is concealed there." The 
hunters obeyed his orders, and, when they returned, they 
said, "In that hollow hes a wonderful creature whose like 
we have never before seen ; its skin is composed of a thou- 
sand different colors, but it lies quite quiet and asleep." 
The king said, "Try if you can catch it alive, and then bind 
it to the carriage, and we will take it with us." 

As soon as the hunters caught hold of the maiden, she 
awoke full of terror, and called out to them, "I am a poor 
child forsaken by both father and mother ! Pray pity me, 
and take me with you!" They named her "AUerleirauh," 
because of her mantle, and took her home with them to 
serve in the kitchen and rake out the ashes. They went 
to the royal palace, and there they showed her a little stable 
under the step where no daylight could enter, and told 
her she could live and sleep there. Afterwards she went 
into the kitchen, and there she had to carry water Eind 
wood to make the fke, to pluck the fowls, to peel the 
vegetables, to rake out the ashes, and to do all manner of 
dirty work. 

Here, for a length of time, AUerleirauh lived wretchedly ; 
but it happened once that a feast was held in the palace, 
and she asked the cook, "May I go and look on for a little 
while? I will place myself just outside the door." The 



Stories for Telling 215 

cook said, "Yes, but in half an hour's time you must return 
and rake out the ashes." 

Allerleirauh took an oil lamp, and, going to her stable, 
put off the gown of skins and washed the soot from her face 
and hands so that her real beauty was displayed. Then she 
opened her nut and took out the dress which shone as the 
sun, and as soon as she was ready she went up to the ball- 
room, where every one made way for her, supposing that she 
was certainly some princess. The king himself soon came 
up to her, and, taking her hand, danced with her, thinking 
the while in his heart that he had never seen any one like 
her. As soon as the dance was finished she disappeared, 
and nobody knew whither. The watchmen stationed at the 
gates were called and questioned, but they had not seen 
her. 

She had run back to her stable and, having quickly taken 
off her dress, had again blackened her face and hands, put 
on the dress of all skins, and became "Allerleirauh" once 
more. As soon as she went into the kitchen to do her work 
in sweeping up the ashes, the cook said, "Let that be for 
once till the morning, and cook the king's supper for me in- 
stead, while I go upstairs to have a peep ; but mind you do 
not let one of your hairs fall in, or you will get nothing to 
eat for the future." 

So saying, he went away, and Allerleirauh cooked the 
king's supper, making some soup as good as she possibly 
could, and when it was ready she went into the stable, and 
fetched her gold ring, and laid it in the dish. When the 
dance was at an end, the king ordered his supper to be 
brought, which, when he had tasted, he thought he had 
never eaten anything so nice before. Just as he neaily 
finished it he saw a gold ring at the bottom, and, not being 
able to imagine how it came there, he commanded the cook 
to be brought before him. The cook was terrified when he 
heard this order, and said to Allerleirauh, "Are you certain 



216 Educating by Story-Telling 

you did not let a hair fall into the soup? For if it is so, 
you will catch a beating." 

Then he came before the king, who asked who had cooked 
the supper, and he answered, "I did." But the king said, 
"That is not true ; for it is of a much better kind and much 
better cooked than usual." Then the cook said, "I must 
confess that not I, but AUerleirauh, cooked it." So that 
the king commanded that she should be brought up. 

When AUerleirauh came, the king asked, "Who are you.^^" 

"I am a poor child, without father or mother," replied 
she. 

"Why did you come to my palace?" then inquired the 
king. 

" I am good for nothing else but to have the boots thrown 
at my head," said she. 

The king asked again, "Where did you get this ring, 
then, which was in the soup?" 

AUerleirauh said, "I know nothing of it." And, as she 
would say no more, she was at last sent away. 

After a time there was another ball, and AUerleirauh 
asked the cook's permission to go again and look on, and he 
consented, and told her, "Return here in half an hour to 
cook the king again the same soup which he liked so much 
before." 

AUerleirauh ran into the stable and, washing herself 
quickly, took out of the sheU the dress which was silver as 
the moon, and put it on. Then she went up to the ball- 
room and appeared like a princess, and the king, stepping 
up to her, was very glad to see her again ; and, as the danc- 
ing had just begun, they joined it. But as soon as it was 
over, his partner disappeared so quickly that the king did 
not notice where she went. She ran to her stable and 
changed her garments again, and then went into the kitchen 
to make the soup. While the cook was upstairs, she fetched 
the golden spinning wheel and put it in the tureen, so that 



stories for Telling 217 

the soup was served up with it. Afterwards it was brought 
before the king, who ate it, and found it tasted as good as 
the former; and the cook was called, who was obliged to 
confess again that Allerleirauh had made it. AUerleirauh 
was accordingly taken before the king, but she repeated 
what she had before said, that she was of no use but to have 
boots thrown at her, and that she knew nothing of the gold 
spinning wheel. 

Not long afterwards a third feast was given by the king, 
at which everything went as before. The cook said to 
Allerleirauh when she asked leave to go, "You are certainly 
a witch, and always put something in the soup which makes 
it taste better than mine. Still, since you beg so hard, you 
shall go at the usual time." This time she put on the dress 
shining as the stars, and stepped with it into the ballroom. 
The king danced again with her, and thought he had never 
seen any maiden so beautiful, and while the dance went on 
he slipped the gold ring on to her finger without her per- 
ceiving it and told the musicians to prolong the time. When 
at last it ended, he would have kept fast hold of her hand, 
but she tore herself away, and sprang so quickly in among 
the people that she disappeared from his sight. Allerleirauh 
ran as well as she could back to her stable ; but she had stayed 
over and above the half hour, and she had not time to pull 
off her beautiful dress, but was obliged to throw over it her 
cloak of skins. Neither did she quite finish the blacking of 
her skin, but left one finger white. Then she ran into the 
kitchen, cooked the soup for the king, and put in it the reel, 
while the cook stayed upstairs. Afterwards, when the king 
found the reel at the bottom of his soup, he summoned 
Allerleirauh, and perceived at once her white finger, and the 
ring which he had put on it during the dance. He took her 
by the hand and held her fast, and when she tried to force 
herself from him and run away, her cloak of skins fell partly 
off and the starry dress was displayed to view. The king 



218 Educating by Story-Telling 

then pulled the cloak wholly ofT, and down came her golden 
hair, and there she stood in all her beauty, and could no 
longer conceal herself. As soon, then, as the soot and 
ashes were washed off her face, she stood up and appeared 
more beautiful than any one could conceive possible on earth. 
But the king said to her, "You are my dear bride, and we 
will never separate from each other." Thereupon was the 
wedding celebrated, and they lived happily to the end of 
their lives. 

THE POOR MAN AND THE RICH MAN 

Retold from Grimm 

(Folk Tale — Ethics, teaching kindness) 

In olden times, when the good angels walked the earth in 
the form of men, it happened that one of them, while he was 
wandering about very tired, saw night coming upon him 
before he had found a shelter. But there stood on the road 
close by two houses opposite to one another, one of which 
was large and handsome, while the other appeared miser- 
ably poor. The former belonged to a rich man, and the 
other to a poor man, so that the angel thought he could 
lodge with the former, because it would be less burdensome 
to him than to the other to entertain a guest. Accordingly 
he knocked at the door, and the rich man, opening the 
window, asked the stranger what he sought. The angel 
replied, "I seek a night's lodging." Then the rich man 
scanned the stranger from head to foot, and perceiving that 
he wore ragged clothes, and seemed like one who had not 
much money in his pocket, he shook his head and said, "I 
cannot take you in ; my rooms are full of herbs and seeds, 
and, should I shelter every one who knocks at my door, I 
might soon take the beggar's staff into my own hand. Seek 
a welcome elsewhere." 



stories for Telling 219 

So saying, he shut his window to, and left the good angel, 
who immediately turned his back upon him and went over 
to the little house. Here he had scarcely knocked, when 
the door was opened and the poor man bade the wanderer 
welcome, and said, "Stop here this night with me; it is 
quite dark, and today you can go no farther." This recep- 
tion pleased the angel much, and he walked in ; and the wife 
of the poor man also bade him welcome and, holding out 
her hand, said, "Make yourself at home, and though it is 
not much that we have, we will give it to you with all our 
heart." Then she placed some potatoes at the fire, and 
while they roasted she milked her goat for something to 
drink with them. When the table was laid, the good angel 
sat down and ate with them, and the rude fare tasted good, 
because they who partook of it had happy faces. After 
they had finished, when bedtime came, the wife called the 
husband aside and said to him, "Let us sleep tonight on 
straw, my dear, that this poor wanderer may have our bed 
whereon to rest himself, for he has been walking all day 
long, and is doubtless very tired." 

"With all my heart," replied her husband; "I will offer 
it to him ;" and, going up to the angel, he begged him, if he 
pleased, to lie in their bed that he might rest his limbs 
thoroughly. The good angel at first refused to take the bed 
of his hosts, but at last he yielded to their entreaties and lay 
down, while they made a straw couch upon the ground. 
The next morning they arose early and cooked their guest a 
brcEikfast of the best that they had, and when the sun shone 
through the window he got up, too, and, after eating with 
them, prepared to set out again. When he stood in the door- 
way he turned round and said to his hosts, "Because you 
are so compassionate and pious, you may wish three times 
and I will grant, each time, what you desire." 

The poor man replied, "Ah, what else can I wish than 
eternal happiness, and that we two, so long as we live, may 



220 Educating by Story-Telling 

have health and strength and our necessary daily bread? 
For the third thing I know not what to wish." 

"Will you not wish for a new house in place of this old 
one?" asked the angel. 

"Oh, yes !" said the man, "if I may keep on this spot, so 
would it be welcome." 

Then the good angel fulfilled his wishes and changed their 
old house into a new one, and, giving them once more his 
blessing, went out of the house. 

It was already broad daylight when the rich man arose 
and, looking out of his window, saw a handsome new house 
of red brick where formerly an old hut had stood. The 
sight made him open his eyes, and he called his wife 
up and asked, "Tell me what has happened; yesterday 
evening an old, miserable hut stood opposite, and today 
there is a fine new house ! Run out and hear how this has 
happened!" 

The wife went and asked the poor man, who related that 
the evening before a wanderer had come, seeking a night's 
lodging, and that in the morning he had taken his leave, 
and granted them three wishes — eternal happiness, health 
and food during their lives, and instead of their old hut, a 
fine new house. When he had finished his tale, the wife of 
the rich man ran home and told her husband all that had 
passed, and he exclaimed, " Ah ! had I only known it ! The 
stranger had been here before, and would have passed the 
night with us, but I sent him away." 

" Hasten, then ! " returned his wife. " Mount your horse, 
and perhaps you may overtake the man, and then you must 
ask three wishes for yourself also." 

The rich man followed this advice, and soon overtook the 
angel. He spoke softly and glibly, begging that the angel 
would not take it ill that he had not let him in at first, for 
that he had gone to seek the key of the house door, and 
meanwhile he had gone away, but if the angel came back 



stories for Telling 221 

the same way he would be glad if he would call again. The 
angel promised that he would come on his return, and the 
rich man then asked if he might not wish thrice as his neigh- 
bor had been allowed. "Yes," said the angel, "you may 
certainly, but it will not be good for you, and it were better 
you did not wish." 

But the rich man thought he might easily obtain some- 
thing which would tend to his happiness, if he only knew 
that it would be fulfilled, and so the angel at length said, 
"Ride home, and the three wishes which you shall make 
shall be answered." 

The rich mgm now had what he desired, and, as he rode 
homewards, began to consider what he should wish. While 
he thought he let his rein fall loose, and his horse presently 
began to jump, so that he was jerked about, and so much 
so that he could fix his mind on nothing. He patted his 
horse on the neck, and said, "Be quiet, Bess!" but it only 
began fresh friskings, so that at last he became savage, and 
cried quite impatiently, "I wish you might break your 
neck!" No sooner had he said so than down it fell upon 
the ground and never moved again, and thus the first wish 
was fulfilled. But the rich man, being covetous by nature, 
would not leave the saddle behind, and so, cutting it off, 
he slung it over his back and went onwards on foot. "You 
still have two wishes," thought he to himself, and so was 
comforted, but as he slowly passed over the sandy common 
the sun scorched him terribly, for it was midday, and he 
soon became vexed and passionate ; moreover, the saddle 
hurt his back ; and besides, he had not yet decided what to 
wish for. "If I should wish for all the treasures and riches 
in the world," said he to himself, "hereafter something or 
other will occur to me, I know beforehand ; but I will so 
manage that nothing at all shall remain for me to wish for." 

Many times he thought he knew what to wish, but soon 
it appeared too little. Then it came into his thoughts how 



222 Educating by Story-Telling 

well his wife was situated, sitting at home in a cool room, 
and appropriately dressed. This idea angered him un- 
commonly, and, without knowing it, he said aloud, "I wish 
she were sitting upon this saddle, and could not get off it, 
instead of its being shpping about on my back." 

As soon as these words were out of his mouth, the saddle 
disappeared from his back, and he perceived that his second 
wish had passed its fulfillment. Now he became very hot, 
and began to run, intending to lock himself up in his room 
and consider there something great for his last wish. But 
when he arrived and opened the house door he found his 
wife sitting upon the saddle in the middle of the room, and 
crying and shrieking because she could not get off. So he 
said to her, "Be contented ; I will wish for the riches in all 
the world, only keep sitting there." 

But his wife shook her head, saying, "Of what use are all 
the riches of the world to me, if I sit upon this saddle? 
You have wished me on it, and you must also wish me 
off." 

So, whether he liked it or not, he was forced to utter his 
third wish, that his wife might be freed from the saddle, 
and immediately it was done. Thus the rich man gained 
nothing from his wishes but vexation, trouble, scolding, and 
a lost horse ; but the poor people lived contented and pious 
to their lives' end. 



THE SILVER CONES 

Adapted from Story by Johanna Spyri 

(Ethics — Geography) 

In the mountain land of Bohemia there lived in the long 
ago a miner with his wife and little daughter. They were 
happy in their hut in the forest, but after a time the father 



stories for Telling 223 

and mother died, and the child was left alone in the world. 
She had no money, and no aunts or cousins to take her in, 
and it seemed as if she would have to go hungry. But always 
there are kindly hearts among the poor, and one of the 
miners opened his house that she might have a home. He 
had six children of his own and little bread and meat to spare, 
but his good wife said, "We will divide what we have." 
So little Hilda became one of the family, and they grew to 
love her very much. 

It was midwinter, and Christmas day not far away. The 
children thought of nothing but the coming of St. Nicholas, 
who they hoped would not forget them on the Holy Night, 
when every boy and girl in Bohemia expects a visit from 
the gift bringer. But when they spoke to the miner about 
it he shook his head and said, "Do not set your hearts upon 
his coming. Our hut is very small and stands so far in the 
forest that he may not be able to find it." 

Gretchen, his little daughter, had a very different idea. 
She declared St. Nicholas could find a house in the dark if 
it were no bigger than an ant hill, and went to bed to dream 
of the toys and sweetmeats he would bring. 

Day after day passed, and nearer, nearer came the season 
of Christ's birth. The children talked of him as they sat 
by the fire at night, as they picked up dead branches in the 
forest, and as they bedded the goats and shut them in, for 
Bohemian mountain folk are a toiling people, and even boys 
and girls must work. 

At last the day before Christmas came, and in the after- 
noon little Hilda started out with her basket to get some 
cones. She wanted the fire to be brighter and more cheerful 
than ever that night, and perhaps if she met a servant from 
the castle, he might take some to feed the prince's fire, and 
give her a silver piece. 

"And if he does," she thought as she trudged on her way, 
" I can buy something for the miner and his dear children." 



224 Educating by Story-Telling 

Now, in that land of Bohemia, on the summit of a lofty 
mountain, a creature named Riibezahl made his home. 
He possessed all magic powers, and was so mighty that his 
sway extended to the very center of the earth. There he 
had chambers of gold and silver, and diamonds and jewels 
without number, and often gave of his treasures to those 
who were good enough to deserve them. He could change 
himself at will into any form. Now he was a bat flying in 
the night, now a country swain selling his wares at the fair, 
and now a woodman cutting down trees in the forest, be- 
cause thus he was able to find out who was worthy and who 
unworthy, and to reward or punish them as they deserved. 

Hilda had often heard of the strange ways of Riibezahl, 
and wondered if he would ever cross her path. 

"I suppose not," she murmured, "because I am just a 
little girl." 

As she came near the fir trees, a tiny white-haired man 
walked out of the shadow. He had a long white beard and 
a jolly red face, and looked as if he were the friend of children. 

"What are you doing?" he called to her. 

"I've come to gather cones," she repHed; "some for our 
fire and some to sell, if the servant from the castle will only 
buy." 

Then she told him of the miner's family, of how eager she 
was to get some money that she might buy a gift for his chil- 
dren, and of her hope that St. Nicholas would not forget 
them on the Holy Night. 

The little old man seemed much interested, and when she 
finished her story he said, "The largest cones are on that 
tree. If you hope to sell, gather the best ones." 

He pointed to a great, dark fir just beyond them, and 
then went back into the shadows of the forest. 

Little Hilda thanked him and ran to the spot. She could 
see the cones fike beehives on the branches, and just as she 
came under them there was such a downfall of beautiful 



Stories for Telling 225 

brown things it frightened her and she began to run. But 
thinking of what she could do with such big ones, she went 
back, filled her basket, and started homeward. 

It was very heavy, and the farther she went the heavier it 
grew. 

"I'll have to ask little Gretchen to help me take it up 
the hill path to the castle," she thought. But by the time 
she reached the hut it had become such a load she could 
not move it, and the miner had to carry it in himself. 

"They are lovely big ones and of a beautiful brown 
color," she said as the children crowded around to see. 

But when they looked at the basket again, they saw no 
brown at all. Instead there was a gleam brighter than that 
of the moonbeams through the fir trees, for a wonderful 
thing had happened. In the twinkling of an eye every one 
of those cones had turned into shining silver, which sparkled 
and ghstened so that they dazzled the eyes. 

Then the little girl remembered the old man in the forest 
and told the miner about him. 

He nodded his head in a knowing way and said, "Surely 
it was Riibezahl, and he has rewarded you for being sweet 
and gentle." 

All of which seemed hke a dream to little Hilda, but 
when she looked into the basket she knew it was true. And 
so knew all the other mountain folk, when the stars of the 
Holy Night shone out and the children went from door to 
door distributing silver cones. The good folk who gave 
her a home received so many that never again were they 
poor. They built a fine house with a porch and twenty 
windows, and were as rich as any one in Bohemia. 

To make things loveher still, St. Nicholas found the hut, 
just as Gretchen had said he would, and left some sweets 
and toys for the children. He laughed loud and long when 
he saw the shining cones, for he had heard all about it from 
Riibezahl himself. 



226 Educating by Story-Telling 

This all happened very, very long ago, in the time so far 
away that even the oldest grandmother cannot remember 
the Holy Night when Hilda gave precious gifts to the miners ; 
but the story has come down from the fathers and the fathers' 
fathers, and that is why, even to this day, the mountain folk 
of Bohemia still deck their Christmas trees with silvered 
cones. 



THE FORGET-ME-NOT 

Adapted from Version by Hoffman von 
Fallersleben 

{Thiiringian Folk Tale — Helpful in Nature Study) 

In the beginning of things, when God the Father created 
every beast of the forest and every bird and tree and blossom, 
he gave each one a name, and the snowdrop, the hly, the 
pansy, the violet, and all the other flower sisterhood re- 
joiced and were glad, for each thought its own name the 
loveliest in the world. Everywhere in field and woodland 
there was happiness, and the blossoms hfted their faces 
toward heaven in gratitude, thanking the Gracious Giver. 

But suddenly there was a sound of weeping. Somewhere 
in the meadow a flower had raised its voice in sorrow, and 
all the other flowers looked to see. At first they could not 
tell whence the sound came, then they beheld a tiny blossom, 
with petals the color of heaven and a heart the color of gold. 
It was sobbing bitterly, and the lily, looking down in pity, 
asked, "Why weepest thou?" 

"Alas," came the reply, "I have forgotten my name." 

Then — wonderful sound — the primrose and the violet and 
the pansy heard the voice of God the Father, for although 
the blossom was very tiny and half hidden by the grasses of 
the field. He heard and saw and knew. 

"Forgotten your name?" He spake in tones that were 



stories for Telling 227 

sweet and tender. "Then shalt thou be called 'Forget-me- 
not,' for that thou canst always remember." 

"Forget-me-not," repeated the gorgeous rose £md the 
modest violet, and the tiny one smiled through its tears and 
said, "Forget-me-not." 

And ever since that day at creation time, when God the 
Father named every beast of the forest and every bird and 
flower and tree, the wee blossom whose petals are the color 
of heaven and whose heart is the color of gold, has been called 
' ' Forget-me-not. ' ' 

THE LITTLE STEPMOTHER 

(Thuringian Folk Tale — Nature Study) 

Once upon a time, say the peasants of the Rhineland, a 
woodman lived with his wife and two daughters in a little 
hut in the forest. They were very poor, but what mattered 
that, since they were very happy ? 

They had five chairs, — one apiece, and one for company, 
— clean, sweet feather beds to keep them warm at night, a 
bit of soup to eat with their black bread, and once each year 
they went to the fair. 

But after a time the mother died, and things were different. 
The father took another wife, who had two children of her 
own, and she was very unkind to her husband's little 
daughters. She forced them to do all the work, and if the 
poor woodman so much as opened his mouth to object, she 
beat him with her slipper. You will know how greedy she 
was when I tell you that she took two of the fine wood chairs 
for her own children and kept two for herself, and you re- 
member there were only five in the hut. That left one for 
the husband and his daughters, and as the father was kind 
and good, he let them have it all to themselves and patiently 
stood while he ate his meals. 

For a long time that greedy Uttle stepmother ruled her 



228 Educating by Story-Telling 

husband and his children with an iron hand, while her own 
daughters acted hke spoiled princesses, until one night some- 
thing happened. The hut and the family disappeared. 
Just how it came to pass, nobody knows, but the next morn- 
ing the other woodmen found a little flower growing where 
the house had stood, and they knew that a fairy or witch or 
something had turned the family into the blossom which 
you may see almost any summer day. The greedy step- 
mother still sits on her two chairs, with her children on each 
side of her holding a chair apiece. The woodman's httle 
daughters are crowded together on one, just as they were in 
the hut. And what of the poor henpecked husband, who 
did not dare to object to anything his spouse chose to do? 
Look in the center, right under her slipper, and you will 
find what most people say is the pistil. But the peasants 
of the Rhineland know better. It is the woodman, who 
once upon a time lived in the hut in the forest, and the flower 
you call the pansy is to them "The Little Stepmother." 



THE RABBIT, AND THE EASTER EGGS 

{Bavarian Folk Tale) 

Once, in the German land of Bavaria, there was a mother 
who was very poor. She was sad as Easter time drew near, 
for it was the custom in that land to give presents then just 
as we do at Christmas, and she had nothing for her children. 
She grieved about it day and night, and one day was so un- 
happy over it that she wept. 

"Never fear," the old grandmother said, "the hens are 
laying weU, and I know how to make beautiful dyes from 
moss and leaves. We can color some eggs for Hans and 
Annchen, and they will be happy." 

This was a lovely thought to the poor mother, and she 
went to work. Soon she had beautiful red, blue, yellow, 



stories for Telling 229 

purple, and orange eggs, and when Easter morning came 
she and the grandmother hid them in a nest in the woods. 
It was a lovely spot, with a thick carpet of moss underfoot 
and the snowy blossoms of the wild plum overhead. 

Then they all went to the tiny chapel that stood at the 
other side of the village, to hsten to the music and hear the 
good pastor tell the story of Easter day, after which they 
walked home by the woodland path. 

Little Hans and Annchen were running ahead of the others, 
and all at once they called, "Oh, Mother, Grandmother, 



come 



The good mother said, "They must have found the eggs," 
and hurried to see. 

Yes, there the children knelt, bending over the nest of 
eggs lovelier than they had ever seen. 

"They are beautiful. Mother!" exclaimed Hans. "See, 
they look hke hen's eggs, yet they are every color, like the 
rainbow. How did they get here in the woods ? " 

" I know," cried Uttle Annchen. "A fairy bird laid them." 

Just then a rabbit leaped out of some tall grass behind 
the nest, and hopped away into the forest. 

The children screamed with delight. "The rabbit laid 
the eggs ! The rabbit laid the eggs I " they shouted. 

And ever since that time Bavariem children have played 
that rabbits lay Easter eggs. 



THE EASTER EGGS 
Adapted from Story by Canon Schmidt 

(Ethics) 

During the days of the Crusades a little village stood in the 
heart of a little valley. The people living there were very 
poor, but so good and gentle that despite their poverty they 
were happier than many of the great folk of the realm. They 



230 Educating by Story-Telling 

had none of the cares that trouble the rich. Their rude 
black huts, each with its tiny garden plot and bit of meadow 
land where they pastured the cow or goats, satisfied them 
because they knew nothing else, and they lived so simply 
and healthfully that there were men over a hundred years 
of age among them. Sometimes they burned charcoal for 
the iron works in the mountains and earned a few pennies, 
when they felt rich indeed, but if there was no money they 
did not complain. They ate their vegetables and black 
bread and drank their goat's milk in contentment. 

One day, when the corn ears were yellowing, a little girl 
hurried down the mountain side where she had been tending 
goats. She ran to her home at the edge of the village, and 
called to her mother in the gau^den, " Oh, mamma, come 
quickly ! A beautiful woman with two pretty children is 
waiting for me on the mountain. They are very tired and 
hungry, and she asked me for some bread and milk." 

Kind hearts beat in the breasts of those village folk, and 
although they had little themselves, they were always ready 
to share their small store. Quickly the mother filled a jar 
with goat's milk and took some bread, butter, and cheese, 
and she and her husband followed the little daughter up the 
mountain side. After a while they came to a turn in the 
path, and saw a woman, very young and very beautiful, 
sitting on a rock under a beech tree. She was holding a 
little girl who was as lovely as herself, and beside them, on 
the ground, a tiny dark-eyed boy played with a bunch of 
thistles. Not far away an old man was unloading a mule 
and opening bundles as if preparing to camp for the night. 
Their clothing was of the costly kind that is worn only by 
the very rich, and it seemed strange that they should be 
asking food of the poor. 

The village wife offered the bread, butter, and cheese 
she had brought with her, which the woman received with 
smiles and words of thanks. She kept nothing herself, but 



stories for Telling 231 

gave all to the old man and children, who ate the coarse 
peasant fare as if it tasted very good, and as she watched 
them tears streamed down her cheeks. She asked many 
questions about the valley, and finding that no one but 
charcoal bmners hved there, and that strangers almost never 
came by, exclaimed, "I think God must have sent me here. 
I have been driven from home and am seeking a spot where 
we may rest in peace." 

They went down to the valley together, and the peasant 
and his wife led the way to a vacant house, which the woman 
rented for her home. It was a very humble cottage, but she 
said it suited her, for it was new and clean, and from its little 
windows one could see out over the cabins and the garden 
plots to the tall, dark fir trees on the mountain slopes. She 
took one of the village girls for a servant, and the worn, un- 
happy look began to leave her face. • 

Eaily the next morning she called the maid Marie, gave 
her a silver piece, and said, "Go and get some eggs for break- 
fast." 

The girl looked at her in surprise. 

"Oh, madame!" she asked sorrowfully, "do you mean 
that I must take the eggs of the dear little birds that sing 
in the forest?" 

"Of course not," her mistress replied, thinking her very 
silly, "I want hen's eggs, not bird's eggs." 

But Marie looked more amazed thsm before. 

"I don't know what you mean by 'hens,'" she said. "We 
have none of them here." 

"You have no hens !" the woman exclaimed. "How can 
that be?" 

Then she remembered that this was a village of poor 
peasants and that only the rich had chickens, because they 
had just been brought to Europe from Asia, and were very 
costly. So she bade the old man Kuno go to the city across 
the mountains and bring her everything she needed. 



232 Educating by Story-Telling 

"And be sure not to forget the cock and hens," she called 
after him as he rode away. 

Late that afternoon the man returned, and the woman 
met him at the door. "Have you brought the chickens?" 
she asked. 

Nodding in reply, he set the cage on the ground. 

By this time the village children had gathered around, and 
were greatly excited about the strange-looking birds. They 
laughed and clapped their hands, for they never had seen 
anything like them, and when Kuno turned them out of the 
cage and they walked around picking up the grain he threw 
to them, their joy knew no bounds. Then the cock flapped 
his wings and crowed and some of the hens cackled, and the 
children danced and screamed in delight. They stayed 
until it was dark, and early the next morning came again 
and brought their fathers and mothers to see the wonderful 
birds that sang such curious songs. 

Summer passed and autumn came. The last apples fell 
from the trees, nuts dropped in the frost-painted forest, and 
the sharp winds of November blew down from the peaks, 
yet stiU the lovely stranger and her children stayed in the 
village. That was very strange, for the valley was entirely 
surrounded by rugged mountains, and was a rough, wild 
country in winter, when the tiny houses were almost buried 
in the snow. But they seemed happy there, and the people 
wondered much about it. They talked of it as they herded 
the goats on the slopes, as they burned charcoal in the shadow 
of the fir trees, and always would end by saying, " She is some 
great lady, for she speaks the language of court, and she 
and her children have costly clothes and many gold pieces." 

But they found out nothing, for when they asked the 
children who their mother was they said, " She is mamma, 
and we are Blanche and Edmund." 

So still they wondered and still they did not know. But 
they were glad she lived among them, because they had grown 



stories for Telling 233 

to love her very much. She was kind and charitable toward 
every one in the village. She gave food to the poor and took 
care of the sick, and the peasants repaid her with many 
kindnesses. They gave her game they killed in the forest, 
and when spring came and the snow melted, the village 
children roamed the woods for the earliest violets and cow- 
shps, and brought them to her door. 

These acts of kindness touched her, and the morning be- 
fore Easter she thought, " I must do something to make them 
happy." But what could it be? She couldn't give them a 
feast, because, although she had plenty of money, it was 
impossible to get any meat in the village ; and she couldn't 
give them presents, because there was no place to buy them. 
She had nothing but eggs, which she thought would be no 
treat at all. Then an idea came to her. Calhng Marie, 
the maid, she told her of it and they merrily went to work. 

They went into the woods and gathered roots, moss, and 
berries such as were used for dyeing in those days. They 
made cakes and custards. They colored eggs red, blue, 
green, orange, and lilac, and planned to give the people a 
grand surprise. Late in the afternoon little Blanche and 
Edmund went out through the village and stopped at every 
house, saying, "Mamma invites you, you and all your family, 
great and small, to a feast at our house tomorrow. Come 
after the mass." 

Everybody accepted the invitation. They had never 
been to a real feast, and to go to one at the house of the 
lovely stranger would be fine indeed. They took out their 
best holiday attire, polished their shoe buckles until they 
shone, and made ready for a gala time, and on Easter morn- 
ing a hne of men, women, and children went from the chapel 
to the cottage of the lady. 

She met them at the door and led them into the garden, 
where two long tables were spread. The parents were told 
to sit down, but she said to the children, "It is not time for 



234 Educating by Story-Telling 

you to eat yet. Go into the woods with Edmund and 
Blanche, and make httle nests of moss. Put them under 
the trees, and be sure to remember where you left them." 

They ran out laughing, and the parents sat down to the 
feast, and a splendid feast it seemed to them ! There were 
eggs in the shell, fried eggs, eggs in milk, omelets, and sweet, 
yellow custards, and as they never had tasted eggs before, 
they thought them wonderfully delicious. 

After a while the children came back for their share in the 
good things, and as soon as they had finished eating, the 
woman said, " Go out and look for your pretty nests." 

A rush and a scramble and they were in the woods, and a 
moment later cries of delight and wonder were heard, for in 
each nest they found five lovely eggs of red, blue, green, 
purple, and orange. They came pell-mell to show them to 
their fathers and mothers, who discovered something written 
upon them. 

It was a motto, and the villagers, who were too unlettered 
to read it, asked the lady to tell them what it meant. They 
smiled as they listened, as if believing in the truth of the 
words they heard : 

In God's protecting goodness trust, 
For He will aid the kind and just. 

The afternoon passed joyously, and when the chapel bell 
rang out the Angelus, the villagers departed, and the woman 
stood in the doorway with a smile upon her face, watching 
them go to their homes. While she watched, a youth carry- 
ing a bundle came walking down the mountain path. He 
seemed very tired and sad, and tears came into his eyes as 
she called to him. He told her he was on his way to a village 
beyond to see his mother, who was old and sick, and that he 
had walked a long way without food. 

" I have a little money," he said, "but must not spend it 
for myself, because it is needed at home." 



stories for Telling 235 

Touched by his story, the woman took him into the house, 
where a good meal was set before him ; and as he was about 
to start away, she gave him a gold piece and some eggs for 
his little brother and sister. 

Refreshed by rest and food he strode on his way through 
the village, took the path that led to the other side of the 
mountains, and after a while came to the edge of a ravine. 
From that point the trail was narrow and dangerous, and he 
walked rapidly because he wanted to reach home before night. 

But suddenly he stopped. Looking down to where a tiny 
stream wound thiough the gulch, he saw a horse. It was 
saddled and bridled, which seemed very strange to him. 

" I wonder if some one has fallen and needs help," he 
murmured. 

So, although he wanted to be on his way, he climbed down 
over the crags. 

It was as he feared. A man was lying there, motionless 
as if dead. He was dressed in heavy armor, by which the 
lad knew he was some one rich and great. 

Pulling off the helmet to use as a dipper, he ran to the river 
for water, and poured it over the drawn, white face. 

The rider opened his eyes slowly, and when he saw the 
youth kneeling beside him said, " Thank God for sending 
you ! I fell down over the chffs, and thought I was to lie 
here and die. Oh, I am so weak and faint!" he sighed. 

The peasant boy remembered the pretty eggs in his bundle 
that were intended for his little brother and sister at home. 
*' But they would want me to give them to this poor fellow," 
he thought. So he shelled one and held it to the trembling 
lips. 

The man ate it as if nearly starved, and another and an- 
other. Then, seeing the motto on the one that was still 
unbroken, he opened his eyes wide. 

"Stop," he said as the boy was about to break it. "Let 
me have it as it is and I will give you a gold piece for it." 



236 Educating by Story-Telling 

Then the peasant youth, who was stalwart and strong, 
helped him on to his horse, and led him to his own village, 
where the doctor said he must lie still for six weeks. He 
groaned as he heard those words, and exclaimed, " Six weeks, 
and my master waiting for word of her I" 

But he was a soldier, and knew how to wait. He stayed 
patiently, and at the end of the time went on his way. 

Meanwhile, back in the village in the valley, the beautiful 
stranger lived on with her children. She seemed very happy 
until one day the man Kuno went to the city across the 
mountain, and returned looking pale and worried. 

" Madame," he said as she met him at the door, "I have 
bad news for you." 

She turned white, as if some terrible thing had happened, 
took him into the house, and they talked together for a long 
time. Then Kuno left the cottage and hurried through the 
village to the house of the miller, who was also the mayor. 

" My mistress wishes to speak to you," he said. 

The man went back with him, and when they reached the 
house, the woman told a strange story. 

" I am Rosalinde, daughter of the Duke of Burgundy," 
she said. "In my father's court were two knights, Hanno 
of Schraffeneck and Arno of Lindenburg, who were suitors 
for my hand. I chose Arno, and Hanno was furiously angry. 
He vowed he would have revenge, but I was happy with my 
husband, and did not fear him. 

" All went well for a long time. Then the emperor sum- 
moned my husband to go on the Holy Wars to Palestine, and 
he rode away with the Crusaders, leaving me alone with the 
children. Hanno, too, was summoned to fight the Moslems, 
but he stayed behind, vowing that now he would have his 
revenge, and unless I married him he would put me into 
prison and kill my children. 

" The castle of my lord was strong, but there was no one 
to defend it after he and his train went away, and Hanno 



stories for Telling 237 

brought many men and began a siege. My good Kuno, 
who knew a secret passage, aided me to escape and brought 
me across the mountains to your village, where I have felt 
safe. But today he saw Hanno in the city, asking people 
if a lady with two children and an old domestic had passed 
that way." 

She stopped a moment as if she could not speak for tears, 
then went on sadly, " Kuno hid and was not seen, but I fear 
that when Hanno comes through the valley, the people will 
tell him I am here, and then he will put me in prison and kill 
my children." 

The miller shook his head and spoke words of comfort. 

"Have no fear, madame," he said. "The villagers will 
not tell that you are here, and if Hanno comes and tries to 
take you, we will defend you with our lives." 

Then he went from house to house, telling the story of the 
Lady Rosalinde. Soon every one in the village knew it and 
the people swore to protect her at any cost, and the next 
day when Hanno came, they pretended to be so stupid that 
they didn't know what he was talking about. 

" She has not been here," he said to his men. And they 
went away. 

After that all was peaceful in the village, and the Lady 
Rosalinde was no longer afraid. Her children played with 
the charcoal bmners' children, and every evening they went 
to the httle chapel at the edge of the forest to pray for the 
safe return of the husband and father from Palestine. 

One lovely evening in the month of May, they went to 
the church as usual, and when they came out, sat down on 
some rocks to watch the sun sink behind the mountain. A 
pilgrim came by, bending low over a staff, his long white 
hair reaching his shoulders and his beard flowing down over 
his breast. He noticed the children and spoke to them, and 
little Edmund said, "We have just been to church to pray 
for our dear papa." 



238 Educating by Story-Telling 

The Lady Rosalinde was terribly frightened, for she thought 
he might be some one who would carry word to Hanno, but 
a moment later her fear turned to joy, for the pilgrim snatched 
off his beard and white hair, and a young, handsome knight 
stood before them. Little Blanche and Edmund screamed 
in delight, for they knew it was their father, 

"How did you find us?" Lady Rosalinde asked. 

" I found you, my dear Rosalinde, because you were good 
and charitable." 

Then he told how he had returned from the Crusades to 
a ruined castle. 

"I questioned the peasants around, who said Hanno had 
besieged it, and that you and the children had escaped. 
Then I led my train against him and took him prisoner, and 
sent out horsemen to find word of you. It seemed they 
would never come back, and when they did my heart almost 
broke, for although they had scoured the land they had no 
news. There was one, however, who did not return, and 
thinking he had been killed, I gave up hope. But six weeks 
later he came with a strange story, and gave me a colored 
egg, and imagine my joy, to find upon it in your own hand- 
writing, the motto of my house : 

" In God's protecting goodness trust, 
For He will aid the kind and just." 

Then, continuing the story, Lord Arno told how he had 
gone in the guise of a pilgrim to the home of the peasant 
from whom the cavaher received the egg, and learning that 
his wife and children were in the valley, had come seeking 
them. 

Word that the lovely woman had been found by her hus- 
band soon traveled throughout the village, and the people, 
young and old, came to welcome him. 

He was a true and vahant knight and thanked them for 
their kindness to his loved ones, for the Lady Rosalinde had 



stories for Telling 239 

told him of her stay in the valley, and of how good and gentle 
the peasants were. 

"And now, my dear friends," he said, "to show you how 
grateful I am, I promise to give a fine, big cow to every 
family in the village. And every year at Easter time, my 
wife and I will send colored eggs to the children, not only 
to those of this valley, but to every boy and girl in the realm." 

Then Lord Arno and his family departed, rebuilt their 
ruined castle, and lived happily there. But they never for- 
got the charcoal burners in the valley, and every year sent 
quantities of gay eggs to the children. As years passed 
the custom spread from country to country, until now 
colored eggs are given at Easter time to children in every 
Chi'istian land. 



PRINCE UNEXPECTED 
From the Polish of Glinski 

(Slavic Wonder Tale) 

There were a king and a queen who had been married for 
three years, but had no children, at which they were both 
much distressed. Once upon a time the king found him- 
self obliged to make a visit of inspection round his dominions ; 
he took leave of his queen, set off, and was not at home for 
eight months. 

Towards the end of the ninth month the king returned 
from his progress through his country, and was ah-eady hard 
by his capital city, when, as he journeyed over an unin- 
habited plain during the most scorching heat of summer, he 
felt such excessive thirst that he sent his servants round 
about to see if they could find water anywhere and let him 
know of it at once. The servants dispersed in various direc- 
tions, sought in vain for a whole hour, and returned without 
success to the king. 



240 Educating by Story-Telling 

The thirst-tormented king proceeded to traverse the 
whole plain far and wide himself, not believing that there 
was not a spring somewhere or other ; on he rode, and on a 
level spot, on which there had not previously been any 
water, he espied a well with a new wooden fence round it, 
full to the brim with spring water, in the midst of which 
floated a silver cup with a golden handle. The king sprang 
from his horse and reached after the cup with his right hand ; 
but the cup, just as if it were alive and had eyes, darted 
quickly on one side and floated again by itself. The king 
knelt down and began to try to catch it, now with his right 
hand, now with his left, but it moved and dodged away in 
such a manner that, not being able to seize it with one hand, 
he tried to catch it with both. But scarcely had he reached 
out with both hands when the cup dived like a fish, and 
floated again on the surface. 

"Hang it!" thought the king, "I can't help myself with 
the cup, I'll manage without it." He then bent down to 
the water, which was as clear as crystal and as cold as ice, 
and began in his thirst to drink. Meanwhile his long beard, 
which reached down to his girdle, dipped into the water. 
When he had quenched his thirst and wished to get up 
again, something was holding his beard and would not let 
it go. He puUed once and again, but it was of no use ; he 
cried out therefore in anger, "Who's there .►^ Let go!" 

"It's I, the subterranean king, immortal Bony, and I 
shall not let go till you give me that which you left unknow- 
ingly at home, and which you do not expect to find on your 
return." 

The king looked into the depth of the well, and there was 
a huge head like a tub, with green eyes and a mouth from 
ear to ear ; the creature was holding the king by the beard 
with extended claws like those of a crab, and was laughing 
mischievously. 

The king thought that a thing of which he had not known 



Stories for Telling 241 

before starting, and which he did not expect on his return, 
could not be of great value ; so he said to the apparition, 
"I give it." 

The appaiition burst with laughter and vanished with a 
flash of fire, and with it vanished also the well, the water, 
the wooden fence, and the cup ; and the king was again on 
a hillock by a little wood kneeling on dry sand, and there 
was nothing more. The king got up, crossed himself, sprang 
on his horse, hastened to his attendants, and rode on. 

In a week or maybe a fortnight the king arrived at his 
capital ; the people came out in crowds to meet him ; he 
went in procession to the great court of the palace and entered 
the corridor. In the corridor stood the queen awaiting him, 
and holding close to her bosom a cushion, on which lay a 
child, beautiful as the moon, kicking in swaddling clothes. 
The king recollected himself, sighed painfully, and said within 
himself: "This is what I left without knowing and found 
without expecting!" And bitterly, bitterly did he weep. 
All marveled, but nobody dared to ask the cause. The 
king, without saying a word, took his son in his arms, gazed 
long on his innocent face, carried him into the palace himself, 
laid him in the cradle, and, suppressing his sorrow, devoted 
himself to the government of his realm ; but he was never 
again cheerful as formerly, since he was perpetually tor- 
mented by the thought that some day Bony would claim his 
son. 

Meanwhile weeks, months, and yeai's flowed on, and no 
one came for his son. The prince, named "Unexpected," 
grew and developed, and eventually became a handsome 
youth. The king also in course of time regained his usual 
cheerfulness, and forgot what had taken place; but alasl 
everybody did not forget so easily. 

Once the prince, while hunting in a forest, became sepa- 
rated from his suite and found himself in a savage wilderness. 
Suddenly there appeared before him a hideous old man with 



242 Educating by Story-Telling 

green eyes, who said, "How do you do, Prince Unexpected? 
You have made me wait for you a long time." 

"Who are you?" 

"That you will find out hereafter, but now, when you 
return to your father, greet him from me, and tell him that 
I should be glad if he would close accounts with me, for if 
he doesn't soon get out of my debt of himself, he will repent 
it bitterly." After saying this the hideous old man dis- 
appeared, and the prince in amazement turned his horse, 
rode home, and told the king his adventure. 

The king turned as pale as a sheet, and revealed the 
frightful secret to his son. "Do not weep, father !" rephed 
the prince, "it is no great misfortune! I shall manage to 
force Bony to renounce the right over me, which he tricked 
you out of in so underhand a manner, but if in the course 
of a year I do not return, it will be a token that we shall see 
each other no more." 

The prince prepared for his journey ; the king gave him a 
suit of steel armor, a sword, and a horse, and the queen hung 
round his neck a cross of pure gold. At leave-taking they em- 
braced affectionately, wept heartily, and the prince rode off. 

On he rode one day, two days, tlu-ee days, and at the 
end of the fourth day at the setting of the sun he came to 
the shore of the sea; and in the selfsame bay he espied 
twelve dresses, white as snow, though in the water, as far 
as the eye could reach, there was no living soul to be seen — 
only twelve white geese were swimming at a distance from 
the shore. Curious to know to whom they belonged, he 
took one of the dresses, let his horse loose in a meadow, 
concealed himself in a neighboring thicket, and waited to 
see what would come to pass. Thereupon the geese, after 
disporting themselves on the sea, swam to the shore. Eleven 
of them went to the dresses, each threw herself on the 
ground and became a beautiful damsel, dressed herself with 
speed, and flew away into the plain. 



stories for Telling 243 

The twelfth goose, the last and prettiest of all, did not 
venture to come out on the shore, but only wistfully stretched 
out her neck, looking on all sides. On seeing the prince she 
called out with a human voice: "Prince Unexpected, give 
me my dress; I will be grateful to you in return." The 
prince hearkened to her, placed the dress on the grass, and 
modestly turned away in another direction. 

The goose came out on the grass, changed herself into a 
damsel, dressed herself hastily, and stood before the prince ; 
she was young and more beautiful than eye had seen or 
ear heard of. Blushing, she gave him her white hand, and, 
casting her eyes down, said with a pleasing voice : " I thank 
you, good prince, for hearkening to me. I am the youngest 
daughter of immortal Bony. He has twelve young daugh- 
ters, and rules in the subterranean realm. My father, 
prince, has long been expecting you and is very angry. 
However, don't grieve, and don't be frightened, but do as 
I tell you. As soon as you see King Bony, fall at once on 
your knees, and paying no regard to his outcry, upbraiding, 
and threats, approach him boldly. What will happen after- 
wards you will learn, but now we must part." 

On saying this the princess stamped on the ground with 
her little foot; the ground sprang open at once, and they 
descended into the subterranean realm, right into Bony's 
palace, which shone all underground brighter than our sun. 
The prince stepped boldly into the reception room. Bony 
was sitting on a golden throne with a glittering crown on 
his head ; his eyes gleamed like two saucers of green glass 
and his hands were like the nippers of a crab. As soon as 
the prince espied him at a distance, he fell on his knees, and 
Bony yelled so horribly that the vaults of the subterranean 
dominion quaked ; but the prince boldly moved on his knees 
towards the throne, and when he was only a few paces from 
it, the king smiled and said: "Thou hast marvelous luck 
in succeeding in making me smile; remain in our subtef- 



244 Educating by Story-Telling 

ranean realm, but before thou becomest a true citizen thereof 
thou art bound to execute three commands of mine ; but 
because it is late today, we will begin tomorrow ; meanwhile 
go to thy room." 

The prince slept comfortably in the room assigned to him, 
and early on the morrow Bony summoned him and said : 
"We will see, prince, what thou canst do. In the course of 
the following night build me a palace of pure marble ; let 
the windows be of crystal, the roof of gold, an elegant garden 
round about it, and in the garden seats and fountains; if 
thou buildest it, thou wilt gain thyself my love ; if not, I 
shall command thy head to be cut off." 

The prince heard the command, returned to his apart- 
ment, and was sitting mournfully thinking of the death 
that threatened him, when outside at the window a bee 
came buzzing and said, "Let me in!" He opened the 
lattice, in flew the bee, and the princess, Bony's youngest 
daughter, appeared before the wondering prince. 

"What are you thus thinking about, Prince Unexpected?" 

"Alas ! I am thinking that your father wishes to deprive 
me of hfe." 

"Don't be afraid 1 Lie down to sleep, and when you get 
up tomorrow morning your palace will be ready." 

So, too, it came to pass. At dawn the prince came out 
of his room and espied a more beautiful palace than he had 
ever seen, and Bony, when he saw it, wondered, and would 
not believe his own eyes. 

"Weill thou hast won this time, and now thou hast my 
second command. I shall place my twelve daughters before 
thee tomorrow ; if thou dost not guess which of them is 
the youngest, thou wilt place thy head beneath the ax." 

"I unable to recognize the youngest princess!" said the 
prince in his room. " What difficulty can there be in that ? " 

"This," answered the princess, flying into the room in 
the shape of a bee, " that if I don't help you, you won't recog- 



stories for Telling 245 

nize me, for we are all so alike that even our father distin- 
guishes us only by our dress." 

"What am I to do?" 

"What, indeed! That will be the youngest over whose 
right eye you espy a ladycow. Only look well. Adieu !" 

On the morrow King Bony again summoned Prince Un- 
expected. The princesses stood in a row side by side, all 
dressed alike and with eyes cast down. The prince looked 
and marveled how alike all the princesses were; he went 
past them once, twice — he did not find the appointed 
token ; the third time he saw a ladycow over the eyebrow 
of one, and cried out: "This is the youngest princess!" 

" How the deuce have you guessed it ? " said Bony angrily. 
"There must be some trickery here. I must deal with your 
lordship differently. In three hours you will come here 
again, and will show your cleverness in my presence. I 
shall light a straw, and you will stitch a pair of boots before 
it goes out, and if you don't do it you will perish." 

The prince returned desponding and found the bee already 
in his apartment. "Why pensive again, prince?" 

"How shouldn't I be pensive, when your father wants 
me to stitch him a pair of boots, for what sort of cobbler 
am I?" 

"What else will you do?" 

"What am I to do? I shan't stitch the boots, and I'm 
not afraid of death — one can die but once !" 

"No, prince, you shall not die ! I will endeavor to rescue 
you, and we will either escape together or perish together ! 
We must flee — there's nothing else to be done." 

Saying this, the princess spat on one of the window 
panes, and the spittle immediately froze. She then went 
out of the room with the prince, locked the door after her, 
and threw the key far away. Then, taking each other by 
the hands, they ascended rapidly, and in a moment found 
themselves on the very spot whence they had descended 



246 Educating by Story-Telling 

into the subterranean realm ; there was the selfsame sea, 
the selfsame fresh meadow, and in the meadow cantered 
the prince's well-fed horse, who, as soon as he descried his 
rider, came galloping straight to him. The prince didn't 
stop long to think, but sprang on his horse, the princess 
seated herself behind him, and off they set as swift as an arrow. 

King Bony at the appointed hour did not wait for Prince 
Unexpected, but sent to ask him why he did not appear. 
Finding the door locked, the servants knocked at it vigor- 
ously, and the spittle answered them from the middle of 
the room in the prince's voice, "Anon." The servants 
carried this answer to the king; he waited, waited, no 
prince; he therefore again sent the same servants, who 
heard the same answer: "Anon I" and carried what they 
had heard to the king. 

"What's this? Does he mean to make fun of me?" 
shouted the king in wrath. "Go at once, break the door 
open, and conduct him to me I " 

The servants hurried off, broke open the door, and rushed 
in. What, indeed? There was nobody there, and the 
spittle on the pane of glass was splitting with laughter at 
them. Bony all but burst with rage, and ordered them all 
to start off in pursuit of the prince, threatening them with 
death if they returned empty-handed. They sprang on 
horseback and hastened away after the prince and princess. 

Meanwhile Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony's 
daughter, were hurrying away on their spirited horse, and 
amidst their rapid flight heard "Tramp, tramp," behind 
them. The prince sprang from the horse, put his ear to 
the ground, and said, "They are pursuing us." 

"Then," said the princess, "we have no time to lose." 
Instantly she transformed herself into a river, changed the 
prince into a bridge and the horse into a raven, and divided 
the grand highway beyond the bridge into three roads. 
Swiftly on the fresh track hastened the pursuers, came to 



Stories for Telling 247 

the bridge, and stood stupefied ; they saw the track up to 
the bridge, but beyond it disappeared, and the highway 
divided into three roads. There was nothing to be done 
but to return, and they came with naught. Bony shouted 
with rage, and cried out: "A bridge and a river! It was 
they. How was it that ye did not guess it? Back, and 
don't return without them ! " The pursuers recommenced 
the pursuit. 

"I hear 'Tramp, tramp!'" whispered the princess, 
Bony's daughter, afFrightedly to Prince Unexpected, who 
sprang from the saddle, put his ear to the ground, and re- 
plied: "They aie making haste, and are not far off." 

That instant the princess and prince, and with them also 
their horse, became a gloomy forest, in which there were 
roads, byroads, and footpaths without number, and on one 
of them it seemed that two riders were hastening on a horse. 
Following the fresh track, the pursuers came up to the 
forest, and when they espied the fugitives in it, they hastened 
speedily after them. On and on hurried the pursuers, see- 
ing continually before them a thick forest, a wide road, and 
the fugitives on it ; now, now they thought to overtake 
them, when the fugitives and the thick forest suddenly 
vanished, and they found themselves at the selfsame place 
whence they had started in pursuit. They returned, there- 
fore, again to Bony empty-handed. 

"A horse, a horse! I'll go myself! they won't escape 
out of my hands!" yelled Bony, foaming at the mouth, 
and started in pursuit. 

Again the princess said to Prince Unexpected: "Me- 
thinks they are pursuing us, and this time it is Bony, my 
father, himself, but the first church is the boundary of his 
dominion, and he cannot pursue us farther. Give me your 
golden cross." 

The prince took off his affectionate mother's gift and gave 
it to the princess, and in a moment she was transformed 



248 Educating by Story-Telling 

into a church, he into the priest, and the horse into the 
bell ; and that instant up came Bony. 

"Monk!" Bony asked the priest, "hast thou not seen 
some travelers on horseback?" 

"Only just now Prince Unexpected rode this way with 
the princess, Bony's daughter. They came into the church, 
performed their devotions, gave money for a mass for your 
good health, and ordered me to present their respects to 
you if you should ride this way." 

Bony, too, returned empty-handed. But Prince Unex- 
pected rode on with the princess, Bony's daughter, in no 
further fear of pursuit. 

They rode gently on, when they saw before them a beau- 
tiful town, into which the prince felt an irresistible longing 
to go. 

"Prince," said the princess, "don't go; my heart fore- 
bodes misfortune there." 

"I'll ride there for only a short time, and look round the 
town, and we'll then proceed on our journey." 

"It's easy enough to ride thither, but wiU it be as easy 
to return? Nevertheless, as you absolutely desire it, go, 
and I will remain here in the form of a white stone till you 
return ; be circumspect, my beloved ; the king, the queen, 
and the princess, their daughter, will come out to meet you, 
and with them will be a beautiful little boy — don't kiss 
him, for, if you do, you will forget me at once, and will 
never set eyes on me more in the world — I shall die of 
despair. I will wait for you here on the road for three 
days, and if on the third day you don't return, remember 
that I perish, and perish all through you." The prince 
took leave and rode to the town, and the princess trans- 
formed herself into a white stone and remained on the road. 

One day passed, a second passed, the third also passed, and 
nothing was seen of the prince. Poor princess 1 He had 
not obeyed her counsel; in the town, the king, the queen, 



stories for Telling 249 

and the princess their daughter had come out to meet him, 
and with them walked a Httle boy, a curly-headed chatter- 
box, with eyes as bright as stars. The child rushed streiight 
into the prince's arms, who was so captivated by the beauty 
of the lad that he forgot everything and kissed the child 
affectionately. That moment his memory was darkened, 
and he utterly forgot the princess, Bony's daughter. 

The princess lay as a white stone by the wayside, one 
day, two days, and when the third day passed and the 
prince did not return from the town, she transformed her- 
self into a cornflower, and sprang in among the rye by the 
roadside. "Here I shall stay by the roadside; maybe some 
passer-by will pull me up or trample me into the ground," 
said she, and tears like dewdrops ghttered on the azm"e petals. 

Just then an old man came along the road, espied the corn- 
flower in the rye by the wayside, was captivated by its 
beauty, extracted it carefully from the ground, carried it 
into his dwelling, set it in a flowerpot, watered it, and began 
to tend it attentively. But — marvel ! — ever since the 
time that the cornflower was brought into his dwelhng, all 
kinds of wonders began to happen in it. Scarcely was the 
old man awake, when everything in the house was already 
set in order, nowhere was the least atom of dust remaining. 
At noon he came home — dinner was dR ready, the table set ; 
he had but to sit down and eat as much as he wanted. The 
old man wondered and wondered, till at last terror took 
possession of him, and he betook himself for advice to an 
old witch of his acquaintance in the neighborhood. 

"Do this," the witch advised him: "get up before the 
first morning dawn, before the cocks crow to announce 
daylight, and notice diligently what begins to stir first in 
the house, and that which does stir, cover with this napkin : 
what will happen further, you will see." 

The old man did not close his eyes the whole night, and 
as soon as the first gleam appeared and things began to be 



250 Educating by Story-Telling 

visible in the house, he saw how the cornflower suddenly 
moved in the flowerpot, sprang out, and began to stir about 
the room; when simultaneously everything began to put 
itself in its place ; the dust began to sweep itself clean away, 
and the fire kindled itself in the stove. The old man sprang 
cleverly out of his bed and placed the cloth on the flower as 
it endeavored to escape, when lo! the flower became a 
beautiful damsel — the princess, Bony's daughter. 

"What have you done?" cried the princess. "Why 
have you brought fife back to me.^ My betrothed, Prince 
Unexpected, has forgotten me, and therefore life has be- 
come distasteful to me." 

" Your betrothed, Prince Unexpected, is going to be married 
today ; the wedding feast is ready, and the guests are begin- 
ning to assemble." 

The princess wept, but after a while dried her tears, 
dressed herself in frieze, and went into the town hke a 
village girl. She came to the royal kitchen, where there 
was great noise and bustle. She went up to the clerk of 
the kitchen with humble and attractive grace, and said in a 
sweet voice: "Dear sir, do me one favor: aUow me to 
make a wedding cake for Prince Unexpected." 

Occupied with work, the first impulse of the clerk of the 
kitchen was to give the girl a rebuff; but when he looked 
at her, the words died on his hps and he answered kindly : 
"Ah, my beauty of beauties! do what you wfll ; I will 
hand the prince your cake myself." 

The cake was soon baked, and aU the invited guests 
were sitting at table. The clerk of the kitchen himself 
placed a huge cake on a silver dish before the prince ; but 
scarce had the prince made a cut in the side of it, when lo ! 
an unheard-of marvel displayed itself in the presence of all. 
A gray tom-pigeon and a white hen-pigeon came out of the 
cake ; the tom-pigeon walked along the table, and the hen- 
pigeon walked after him, cooing : 



stories for Telling 251 

"Slay, stay, my pigeonet, oh stay I 
Don't from thy true love flee away ; 
My faithless lover I pursue, 
Prince Unexpected like unto, 
Who Bony's daughter did betray." 

Scarcely had Prince Unexpected heard this cooing of the 
pigeon, when he regained his lost recollection, bounced from 
the table, rushed to the door, and behind the door the 
princess, Bony's daughter, took him by the hand ; they 
went together down the corridor, and before them stood a 
horse saddled and bridled. 

Why delay ? Prince Unexpected and the princess, Bony's 
daughter, sprang on the horse, started on the road, and at 
last arrived happily in the realm of Prince Unexpected's 
father. The king and the queen received them with joy 
and merriment, and did not wait long before they prepared 
them a magnificent wedding, the hke of which eye never saw 
and ear never heaid of. 



THE GREEDY COBBLER 

(Welsh Folk Tale — Ethics, teaching contentment) 

Once upon a time a Welsh cobbler carrying a hazel wand 
was walking over London Bridge, and as he sauntered along 
he met an Englishman. 

"Ah," the latter exclaimed, pointing to the wand the 
man of Cambria used as a cane, "where did you get it?" 

"Where did I get it?" the Welshman repeated, amazed 
that any one should ask such a question. "Off of a hazel 
bush, to be sure." 

But the stranger stared in big-eyed wonder and shook his 
head. 

"There is only one hazel bush of that kind in all the 
world," he declared, "and under it a vast treasure is hidden. 
Lead me to the spot, and I will shaie it with you." 



252 Educating by Story-Telling 

The Welshman smiled pleasantly, for he began to have 
visions of a luxurious, idle life. He hated to work, and was 
always grumbling because he had to hammer away at shoe 
lasts to make his living. 

To be sure he would lead the Enghshman to the spot, and 
once he had some gold in his possession, he'd do nothing but 
feast and ride in a coach £uid dance at the faiir. So he s£dd 
quite wearily, lest the stranger think he seemed too eager 
and change his mind, "It is a long way from here, in the 
Vale of Neath in my native Wales, and by my faith I have 
no desire to walk that distance." 

But the Enghshman coaxed, which was just what the 
Welshman wanted him to do. So they turned away from 
London Bridge and journeyed northward across mountains 
and valleys, until they came to Cambria. 

After several days they came to Craig-i-Ddinas, in the 
lovely Vale of Neath. The Welshman led the way to the 
hazel bush, beside which he had often played when a boy, 
and the Enghshman said, "In due time we will begin 
work." 

When darkness was heavy enough to cover all trace of 
what they did, they dug up the bush, and the Enghshman, 
who happened to be a wizard, pointed to a broad stone under 
the roots and said, "Below is the treasure. Do as I bid 
and you shall be rich." 

And the Welshman began to feel very important, thinking 
how people would honor him when he lived in a great house 
and wore a velvet coat. 

Then the cock crowed for dawn, and they knew they must 
hurry away before any of the peasants saw them. The 
Welshman did not wish his village cousins to know he was 
there, for they would question why he had come ; so they 
found a vacant tinker's hut in which to rest until darkness 
made it safe for them to go to work again. ^ i^ 

But the cobbler was too excited to sleep. The sight of 



Stories for Telling 253 

the broad, flat stone at the root of the hazel bush brought 
back to his mind a story he had often heard, one that the 
village grandmothers used to tell when he was a boy. Again 
and again he thought of it, the story of the treasure of King 
Arthur. 

Historians state that when the ruler of Camelot was 
killed in the battle of Mount Badon, he was buried at 
Glastonbury, but the Welsh country folk say that is not 
true. They declare Merlin carried him straight to the lovely 
Vale of Neath, where he sleeps on his arms, with his Round 
Table Knights beside him and all the wealth of his realm 
piled at his feet. There he and his warriors will rest until 
the ringing of a warning bell, when the Black and Golden 
Eagles go to war. Then they will rise up and destroy every 
enemy of Cambria, when Britain will be governed with 
justice and peace will reign as long as the world endures. 
Could it be that the broad stone at the foot of the hazel 
tree covered the entrance to Arthur's cave.^ This the 
Welshman pondered until it was almost dark and time to 
go to work again. 

Cautiously they left the hut and approached the spot, 
peering in every direction lest some one see and question 
them. Sturdily they pulled and tugged at the rock, and 
slowly, steadily moved it, until they found an opening hke 
a door. Then the Englishman said in a low tone, "Behold 
King Arthur's cave ! Follow me and obey." 

The Welshman followed, and a wonderful sight met his 
eyes. Thousands of warriors slept in a circle on their arms, 
and in the midst of them, more splendid looking than any 
other, lay the King of Camelot, the mighty Arthur himself. 
His crown of gold was by his side, a pile of gold lay at his 
feet, and beyond the circle of his followers were a thousand 
steeds, all saddled and bridled as if ready for battle. Some- 
times they champed as if eager for the war cry, sometimes 
they drooped their heads wearily. 



254 Educating by Story-Telling 

Noticing a bell suspended just above the treasure heap, 
the cobbler pointed to it. 

"Do not touch it," the Englishman warned. "But if by 
accident you do, auid the warriors waken and ask if it is day, 
say, 'No, sleep thou on.' Otherwise a terrible fate will 
overtake you." 

They helped themselves to the gold and left the cave, 
and each man went his way. The Welshman, having all 
the treasure he could carry, was no longer a poor cobbler 
who must spend his time bending over shoe lasts. He was 
richer than the mayor and could feast and ride in a coach, 
dance at the fair, and live like the lords of the land. 

But riches made that cobbler greedy. He had far more 
gold than he needed, and the finest house in seven counties, 
but still he wanted more. He kept thinking of the gold 
piled high in Arthur's cave ; so one day he journeyed back 
to the Vale of Neath and waited for nightfall. 

Then, creeping to the place of the hazel bush, he moved 
the rock and went into the cave. 

Ah, it was a goodly sight, those thousand warriors slum- 
bering there beside the treasme heap and a thousand saddled 
chargers beyond 1 He would take all the gold he could 
carry, and very soon he would come back for more. But 
in his greed to increase his wealth he bumped against the 
bell, which clanged loudly. The warriors started up, ask- 
ing if it was day, but the man was so dazzled by the pile of 
shining treasure that he did not have the answer ready. 
They leaped to their feet, called him a robber, beat him, and 
drove him from the cave. 

Then what a change ! He went limping homeward, to 
discover that all his wealth had disappeared and where his 
great house had stood was a miserable hut. He was as poor 
as ever, and unless he could get more gold out of the cave 
must go back to cobbling and never again ride in a coach. 
But try as he would, he could not find the place where the 



stories for Telling ^55 

hazel bush had grown. Many a journey he made into the 
Vale of Neath, but never did he catch a ghmpse of the broad, 
flat stone. He had to spend his days bending over shoe 
lasts instead of riding in a coach, and was a cripple as long 
as he lived. 



THE STORY OF A SALMON 
By David Starr Jordan 

(Science) 

In the realm of the Northwest Wind, on the boundary 
line between the dark fir forests and the sunny plains, there 
stands a mountain — a great white cone two miles and a 
half in perpendicular height. On its lower mile the dense 
fir woods cover it with never changing green ; on its next 
half mile a lighter green of grass and bushes gives place in 
winter to white ; and on its uppermost mile the snows of 
the great ice age still linger in unspotted purity. The 
people of Washington Territory say that their mountain 
is the great "King-pin of the Universe," which shows that 
even in its own country Mount Tacoma is not without 
honor. 

Flowing down from the southwest slope of Mount Tacoma 
is a cold, clear river, fed by the melting snows of the moun- 
tain. Madly it hastens down over white cascades and 
beds of shining sands, through birch woods and belts of 
dark firs, to mingle its waters at last with those of the great 
Columbia. This river is the Cowlitz ; and on its bottom, 
not many years ago, there lay half buried in the sand a 
number of httle orange-colored globules, each about as large 
as a pea. These were not much in themselves, but great 
in their possibilities. In the waters above them little 



256 Educating by Story-Telling 

suckers and chubs and pricldy sculpins strained their mouths 
to draw these globules from the sand, and vicious-looking 
crawfishes picked them up with their blundering hands and 
examined them with their telescopic eyes. But one, at least, 
of the globules escaped their curiosity, else this story would 
not be worth telling. The sun shone down on it through 
the clear water, and the ripples of the Cowlitz said over it 
their incantations, and in it at last awoke a living being. 
It was a fish, — a curious little fellow, not half an inch long, 
with great, staring eyes, which made almost half his length, 
and with a body so transparent that he could not cast a 
shadow. He was a little salmon, a very little salmon ; 
but the water was good, and there were flies and worms and 
little living creatures in abundance for him to eat, and he 
soon became a larger salmon. Then there were many more 
little salmon with him, some larger and some smaller, 
and they all had a merry time. Those who had been born 
soonest and had grown largest used to chase the others around 
and bite heads and swallow them whole ; for, said they, 
"even young salmon are good eating." "Heads I win, tails 
you lose," was their motto. Thus, what was once two 
small salmon became united into a single lai'ger one, and 
the process of "addition, division, and silence" still went on. 

By and by, when all the salmon were too large to be 
swallowed, they began to grow restless. They saw that 
the water rushing by seemed to be in a great hurry to get 
somewhere, and it was somehow suggested that its hurry 
was caused by something good to eat at the other end of its 
course. Then they all started down the stream, salmon 
fashion, — which fashion is to get into the current, head 
upstream, and thus to drift backward as the river sweeps 
along. 

At last they came to where the Cowlitz and the Columbia 
join, and they were almost lost for a time ; for they could 
find no shores, and the bottom and the top of the water 



Stories for Telling ^57 

were so far apart. Here they saw other and far larger salmon 
in the deepest part of the current, turning neither to the 
right nor to the left, but swimming right on upstream just 
as rapidly as they could. And these great salmon would 
not stop for them, and would not lie and float with the cur- 
rent. They had no time to talk, even in the simple sign 
language by which fishes express their ideas, and no time 
to eat. They had important work before them, and the 
time was short. So they went on up the river, keeping their 
great purposes to themselves ; and our little salmon and his 
friends from the Cowlitz drifted down the stream. 

By and by the water began to change. It grew denser, 
and no longer flowed rapidly along; and twice a day it 
used to turn about and flow the other way. Then the shores 
disappeared, and the water began to have a different and 
peculiar flavor, — a flavor which seemed to the salmon 
much richer and more inspiring than the glacier water of 
their native Cowlitz. There were many curious things to 
see — crabs with hard shells and savage faces, but so good 
when crushed and swallowed ! Then there were luscious 
squid swimming about; and, to a salmon, squid are like 
ripe peaches and cream. There were great companies of 
delicate sardines and herring, green and silvery, and it was 
such fun to chase and capture them ! Those who eat 
sardines packed in oil by greasy fingers, and herrings dried 
in the smoke, can have little idea how satisfying it is to 
have a meal of them, plump and sleek and silvery, fresh from 
the sea. 

Thus the salmon chased the herrings about, and had a 
merry time. Then they were chased in turn by great sea 
lions, — swimming monsters with huge half-human faces, 
long thin whiskers, and blundering ways. The sea lions like 
to bite out the throat of a salmon, with its precious stomach 
fuU of luscious sardines, and then to leave the rest of the fish 
to shift for itself. And the seals and the herrings scattered 



258 Educating by Story-Telling 

the salmon about, till at last the hero of our story found 
himself quite alone, with none of his own kind near him. 
But that did not trouble him much, and he went on his 
own way, getting his dinner when he was hungry, which was 
all the time, and then eating a Uttle between meals for his 
stomach's sake. 

So it went on for three long years ; and at the end of this 
time our little fish had grown to be a great, fine salmon of 
twenty-two pounds' weight, shining like a new tin pan, and 
with rows of the lovehest round black spots on his head and 
back and tail. One day, as he was swimming about, idly 
chasing a big sculpin with a head so thorny that he never 
was swallowed by anybody, all of a sudden the salmon 
noticed a change in the water aiound him. 

Spring had come again, and the south-lying snowdrifts 
on the Cascade Mountains once more felt that the "earth 
was wheeling sunwards." The cold snow waters ran down 
from the mountains and into the Columbia River, and made 
a freshet on the river. The high water went far out into the 
sea, and out in the sea our salmon felt it on his gills. He 
remembered how the cold water used to feel in the Cowlitz 
when he was a little fish. In a blundering, fishy fashion 
he thought about it; he wondered whether the little eddy 
looked as it used to look and whether caddis worms and 
young mosquitoes were really as sweet and tender as he 
used to think they were. Then he thought some other 
things; but as the salmon's mind is located in the optic 
lobes of his brain, and ours is in a different place, we cannot 
be quite certain what his thoughts really were. 

What our salmon did, we know. He did what every 
grown salmon in the ocean does when he feels the glacier 
water once more upon his gills. He became a changed being. 
He spurned the blandishment of soft-shelled crabs. The 
pleasures of the table and of the chase, heretofore his only 
delights, lost their charms for him. He turned his course 



stories for Telling 259 

straight toward the direction whence the cold water came, 
and for the rest of his Hfe never tasted a mouthful of food. 
He moved on toward the river mouth, at first playfully, as 
though he were not really certain whether he meant any- 
thing after all. Afterward, when he struck the full current 
of the Columbia, he plunged straight forward with an un- 
flinching determination that had in it something of the heroic. 
When he had passed the rough water at the bar, he was not 
alone. His old neighbors of the Cowlitz, and many more 
from the Clackamas and the Spokane and Des Chutes and 
Kootanie, — a great army of salmon, — were with him. 
In front were thousands pressing on, and behind them were 
thousEuids more, all moved by a common impulse which 
urged them up the Columbia. 

They were all swimming bravely along where the current 
was deepest, when suddenly the foremost felt something 
tickling hke a cobweb about their noses and under their 
chins. They changed their course a httle to brush it off 
and it touched their fins as well. Then they tried to slip 
down with the current, and thus leave it behind. But, no 1 
the thing, whatever it was, although its touch was soft, 
refused to let go, and held them like a fetter. The more 
they struggled, the tighter became its grasp, and the whole 
foremost rank of the salmon felt it together ; for it was a 
great gill net, a quarter of a mile long, stretched squarely 
across the mouth of the river. 

By and by men came in boats, and hauled up the gill 
net and the helpless salmon that had become entangled in 
it. They threw the fishes into a pile in the bottom of the 
boat, and the others saw them no more. We that live out- 
side the water know better what befalls them, and we can 
tell the story which the salmon could not. 

AU along the banks of the Columbia River, from its mouth 
to nearly thirty miles away, there is a succession of large 
buildings, looking hke great barns or warehouses, built on 



260 Educating by Story-Telling 

piles in the river, high enough to be out of the reach of 
floods. There are thirty of these buildings, and they are 
called "canneries." Each cannery has about forty boats, 
and with each boat are two men and a long gill net. These 
nets fill the whole river as with a nest of cobwebs from 
April to July, and to each cannery nearly a thousand great 
salmon are brought every day. These salmon are thrown 
in a pile on the floor ; and Wing Hop, the big Chinaman, 
takes them one after another on the table, and with a great 
knife dexterously cuts off the head, the tail, and the fins ; 
then with a sudden thrust he removes the intestines and the 
eggs. The body goes into a tank of water ; and the head is 
dropped into a box on a flatboat, and goes down the river 
to be made into salmon oil. Next the body is brought to 
another table; and Quong Sang, with a machine hke a 
feed cutter, cuts it into pieces each just as long as a one- 
pound can. Then Ah Sam, with a butcher knife, cuts 
these pieces into strips just as wide as the can. Next Wan 
Lee, the "China boy," brings down a hundred cans from the 
loft where the tinners are making them, and into each can 
puts a spoonful of salt. It takes just six salmon to fiU a 
hundred cans. Then twenty Chinamen put the pieces of 
meat into the cans, fitting in little strips to make them 
exactly fuU. Ten more solder up the cans, and ten more 
put the cans into boiling water till the meat is thoroughly 
cooked, and five more punch a little hole in the head of each 
can to let out the air. Then they solder them up again, 
and Httle girls paste on them bright-colored labels showing 
merry little cupids riding the happy salmon up to the can- 
nery door, with Mount Tacoma and Cape Disappointment 
in the background ; and a legend underneath says that this is 
"Booth's" or "BadoUet's Best," or "Hume's," or "Clark's," 
or "Kinney's Superfine Salt Water Salmon." Then the 
cans are placed in cases, forty-eight in a case, and five 
hundred thousand cases are put up every year. Great ships 



stones for Telling 261 

come to Astoria, and are loaded with them ; and they carry 
them away to London and San Francisco and Liverpool 
and New York and Sydney and Valparaiso; and the man 
at the corner grocery sells them at twenty cents a can. 

All this time our salmon is going up the river, eluding 
one net as by a miracle, and soon having need of more 
miracles to escape the rest ; passing by Astoria on a for- 
tunate day, — which was Sunday, the day on which no 
man may fish if he expects to sell what he catches, — till 
finally he came to where nets were few, and, at last, to 
where they ceased altogether. But there he found that 
scarcely any of his companions were with him ; for the nets 
cease when there are no more salmon to be caught in them. 
So he went on, day and night, where the water was deepest, 
stopping not to feed or loiter on the way, till at last he came 
to a wild gorge, where the great river became an angry tor- 
rent, rushing wildly over a huge staircase of rocks. But 
our hero did not falter ; and summoning all his forces, he 
plunged into the Cascades. The current caught him and 
dashed him against the rocks. A whole row of silvery scales 
came off and gUstened in the water like sparks of fire, and 
a place on his side became black and red, which for a salmon 
is the same as being black and blue for other people. His 
comrades tried to go up with him ; and one lost his eye, 
one his tail, and one had his lower jaw pushed back into 
his head like the joint of a telescope. Again he tried to 
surmount the Cascades ; and at last he succeeded, and an 
Indian on the rocks above was waiting to receive him. 
But the Indian with his spear was less skillful than he was 
wont to be, and our hero escaped, losing only a part of one 
of his fins ; and with him came one other, and henceforth 
these two pursued their journey together. 

Now a gradual change took place in the looks of our 
salmon. In the sea he was plump and round and silvery, 
with delicate teeth in a symmetrical mouth. Now his silvery 



262 Educating by Story-Telling 

color disappeared, his skin grew slimy, and the scales sank 
into it : his back grew black, and his sides turned red, — 
not a healthy red, but a sort of hectic flush. He grew poor ; 
and his back, formerly as straight as need be, now developed 
an unpleasant hump at the shoulders. His eyes — hke 
those of all enthusiasts who forsake eating and sleeping for 
some loftier aim — became dark and sunken. His sym- 
metrical jaws grew longer and longer, and projected from 
his mouth, giving him a savage and wolfish appearance, 
quite at variance with his real disposition. For all the de- 
sires and ambitions of his nature had become centered into 
one. We may not know what this one was, but we know 
that it was a strong one ; for it had led him on and on, — 
past the nets and horrors of Astoria; past the dangerous 
Cascades, past the spears of Indians ; through the terrible 
flume of the DaUes, where the mighty river is compressed 
between huge rocks into a channel narrower than a village 
street; on past the meadows of UmatiUa and the wheat 
fields of Walla WaUa ; on to where the great Snake River 
and the Columbia join ; on up the Snake River and its 
eastern branch, tiU at last he reached the foot of the Bitter 
Root Mountains in the Territory of Idaho, nearly a thousand 
miles from the ocean which he had left in April. With him 
still was the other salmon which had come with him through 
the Cascades, handsomer and smaller than he, and, like 
him, growing poor and ragged and tired. 

At last, one October afternoon, our finny travelers came 
together to a httle clear brook, with a bottom of fine gravel, 
over which the water was but a few inches deep. Our fish 
painfuUy worked his way to it; for his tail was aU frayed 
out, his muscles were sore, and his skin covered with un- 
sightly blotches. But his sunken eyes saw a ripple in the 
stream, and under it a bed of little pebbles and sand. So 
there in the sand he scooped out with his teiil a smooth round 
place, and his companion came and filled it with orange- 



stories for Telling 263 

colored eggs. Then our salmon came back again ; and 
softly covering the eggs, the work of their hves was done, 
and, in the old salmon fashion, they drifted tail foremost 
down the stream. 

They drifted on together for a night and a day, but they 
never came to the sea. For the salmon has but one life to 
hve, and it ascends the river but once. The rest lies with 
its children. And when the April sunshine fell on the 
globules in the gravel, these were awakened into hfe. With 
the eai'ly autumn rains, the httle fishes were large enough 
to begin their wanderings. They dropped down the current 
in the old salmon fasliion. And thus they came into the 
great river and drifted away to the sea. 



THE PIGEONS OF VENICE 

(History) 

In one of the upland vaUeys of Italy, shut away from the 
rest of the world by the high, white peaks men call the 
Dolomites, there lived, about five hundred years ago, a little 
boy named Leonardo. He dwelt in a tiny hut with his 
black-eyed peasant mother, fed the pigeons and milked the 
goats each day, and in the evening, the pleasant summer 
evening that spread rainbow-colored draperies over the 
Dolomite peaks, he lay in the shadows under the plum 
tree, thinking about his brother Vittorio, who was a soldier 
down in the great city of Venice. 

"I wish brother would come home," he said to his mother 
one morning as they ate their breakfast of macaroni and 
mountain bread, "because he always tells such wonderful 
things about the city. Some day I mean to go there and be 
a soldier, too." 

His dark eyes gleamed as he spoke, and he sat very 



264 Educating by Story-Telling 

straight in his heavy oaken chair, as of course a soldier ought 
to do. 

Everybody knows that wishes do not always come true, 
but sometimes they do, and when that happens the whole 
world seems brighter and lovelier than it seemed before. 
The next afternoon, as Leonardo was turning the goats into 
their inclosure, he gave a shout so joyous that even Armando 
the weaver, in his shop at the other end of the village, heard 
and ran to see what it meant. He soon found out, for he 
saw Leonardo hurrying toward a man who was moving 
along the highway. Vittorio, the soldier brother, was com- 
ing home, coming back to the mountain village with many a 
tale of the splendid city beside the Adriatic, and perhaps 
with a goody that would taste very sweet after the coarse 
fare of weeks and months. 

Far into the night the brothers sat and talked together, 
talked of palaces and gliding gondolas, of great lords and 
ladies, of soldiers moving in splendid uniforms about the 
Piazza of St. Mark. They talked of Carnival time too, of 
the merry pranks the people played on each other, of the 
procession on the water and the presents given to the Doge. 

"And sometimes," Vittorio exclaimed proudly, "they 
are very splendid. Sometimes they are of gold and silver, 
and of silk stuffs brought from the Indies." 

Leonardo sat silent for a minute. He knew little of 
present giving, for in the mountains where he hved there 
was no money to spend on such things. But always when 
he made his mother a gailand of flowers on her birthday, 
she seemed so happy about it that he thought it must be 
very lovely to bestow gifts. So he said softly, "I should 
hke to send a present to the Doge. It would seem like doing 
something for Venice. But I have nothing to give." 

"Wait until you are a man and can be a soldier," the big 
brother answered. "Then you will be doing much." 

The next morning he was up at daybreak. Vittorio had 



stories for Telling 265 

only two days' leave, which meant that he must start back 
at noon, and his mother had promised that Leonardo might 
go with him to the edge of the village if he finished his tasks 
in time. So he milked the goats before there was a bit of 
stirring about the hut, and led the geese from their pen to 
crop the green grass on the hillside. Then he cut some 
grass and threw it to the old horse that was their most 
prized possession, and by the time his brother came from the 
hut he called to him, "I have only to feed the pigeons yet." 

Vittorio smiled and stood watching as the boy whistled 
to the birds. 

The gentle creatures flew up at Leonardo's call, and as 
he scattered crumbs to them, he thought again of the great 
carnival at Venice and the gifts that would be made to the 
Doge. He wished that he too might join that throng of 
givers, but he possessed nothing but his pigeons, and a bird 
would seem a very poor present to offer a ruler. But he 
happened to think that the schoolmaster had once told him 
that it is not the cost or the beauty of an offering that 
makes it precious, but the good will of the giver, and that a 
beggar's portion may be a lovelier gift than that of a prince. 
The schoolmaster was very wise. He could both read and 
write, which only a few could do in that day, so anything 
that he said must be true ; and the memory of the words 
brought an idea to Leonardo that made the boy's eyes dance. 

"Vittorio," he exclaimed suddenly, "I have thought of 
something." 

Vittorio wondered what excited his brother so. 

"Well?" he asked as he walked near. 

"Will you take a pair of pigeons back to the city with 
you?" 

"A pair of pigeons," the soldier repeated. "Why?" 

"I want to send a present to the Doge, and I have noth- 
ing else," he answered. "But the birds are so gentle I am 
sure he will like them. They are fine carriers, too." 



266 Educating by Story-Telling 

Vittorio smiled. Being in the army of the Doge, he was 
pleased that his brother showed such loyalty to the master 
he served. It meant that he would probably grow up to 
be a good soldier, and in those days nothing was considered 
finer than that. So he answered pleasantly: "Of course I 
will, Leonardo, if you are sure you can give up your pets. 
I will ask my captain, who knows the Doge well, to take 
them to him and say that they are the gift of a mountain 
boy." 

Leonardo's eyes sparkled with delight. It seemed a 
glorious thing that he too might give with the rich and 
great; so he selected the handsomest pair in the covey, 
birds of a soft gray, with shadings of blue and purple along 
their delicate wings, and he and Vittorio made a rude cage 
in which to carry them to the city. 

Then they walked together to the edge of the village, and 
Leonardo watched his brother go along the road that wound 
down to the low country. He waved good-by until Vittorio 
passed from sight, then went back to the hut, happy in the 
thought that he was doing something for Venice. 

Many months passed. It was September when Vittorio 
went away, and now the blossom time had come and hills 
were bright with touches of summer. All through that 
long period Leonardo wondered much about the pigeons, 
but no word came from his brother; for letters went only 
by courier in those days, and poor folk could not pay for 
the carrying. But he was sure the birds had reached the 
Doge, for Vittorio had promised and a soldier never broke 
his word. 

Then one day in the autumn, when the brightness on the 
mountains had faded to bronze and gray, and squirrels 
were stocking their houses as nuts dropped in the woods, 
Vittorio came back. He looked older and graver than 
the year before, and some worrying thing seemed on his 
mind. 



stories for Telling 267 

"It is just to say good-by," he said, as the gray-haired 
mother stroked his hands and Leonardo looked at him 
with loving eyes. "The war has begun, and we soldiers of 
Venice must sail away to Candia for the fighting." 

Leonardo's eyes grew wide, and tears came into them as 
he exclaimed, "If only I were old enough to go with you 
and help serve our glorious city of St. Mark !" 

The big man laid his hand lovingly on the dark head. 

"Never mind, brother," he said. "You have already 
done much. I gave your birds to my captain, who took 
them to the Doge, and the Doge is proud of them because 
they are splendid carriers. So Dandolo, our general, will 
take them along with the army to bring back news of the 
war. And now good-by. When the fighting is over, I 
will come again." 

He mounted his horse and rode away, and two pairs of 
dewy eyes looked after him as he went. 

The days that followed seemed very long to the two who 
waited in the highlands. They knew that the army had 
gone, and that away on the eastern island perhaps the fight- 
ing had begun. But what of the fate of the Venetian hosts, 
and what of the son and brother who had sailed under the 
standard of the Lion? As to that they could only hope 
and wonder. 

Slowly, slowly dragged the days, but no word came back. 

One morning, while Leonardo and his mother prayed 
and waited in the mountain cabin, down in Venice in the 
splendid Palace of the Doges, the Council of Ten sat and 
pondered. They talked much about the absent army, 
wondering if victory or defeat had been its share, and while 
they wondered there came a fluttering of soft gray wings. 

"Pigeons!" some one called. "See, they are carriers I" 

The dignified assemblage broke up in excitement, for they 
knew the tiny birds were messengers, and the men hurried 
to read the missives fastened to their crimson feet. 



268 Educating by Story-Telling 

"They come from Dandolo," said one of the nobles, 
"bringing news of the war." 

"From Candia!" another exclaimed. "It cannot be 
that they have flown so far 1" 

But it was true, for upon reading they learned that the 
Venetian army had been victorious and the soldiers would 
soon sail home in triumph. The tiny birds had flown all 
the long leagues across the sea to carry the glad news to 
the waiting people. 

Up in the hut in the Italian highlands Leonardo and his 
mother still watched and wondered, when one evening a few 
days later Armando, the viUage weaver, came by on his 
way home from the city. He was greatly excited and called 
to them as he stopped at the door. 

"Rejoice," he said, "for the war is over !" 

"How do you know?" the mother asked "Are the 
soldiers back?" 

"No. But the pigeons brought the word, and every one 
is glad." 

"Pigeons!" exclaimed Leonardo. "My pigeons 1 Then 
after all I did something for Venice." 

And he spoke the truth. So much did the message mean 
to the anxious people, that the lawmakers said they would 
always keep the birds, they and their young and their chil- 
dren's young. And although hundreds of years have 
passed since then, stiU the gray-winged creatures fly about 
St. Mark's Square, and the people love and feed them. 
For they know they are descended from the pair sent to 
the Doge by a mountain boy, Leonardo's pigeons, that long 
ago flew across the wide seas, bringing word of the victory 
of the Venetian hosts. 



stories for Telling 269 

THE COMING OF THE WONDER TREE 

Retold from an Arabian Legend 

(Geography — Nature Study) 

Abi Ben Ahmed was a chief of Araby, and there was no 
sweeter child in the land than his little daughter Zuleika. 
She was fair to look upon, with eyes slender as an almond 
and soft as a gazelle's, and the goodness of her heart was 
known to every one in the tribe. Lowly slave and mighty 
sheik alike loved her, and when she was with her father he 
forgot all his trouble. 

One evening when the sun was dropping low over the 
desert, Zuleika sat in front of the tent waiting for a chance 
to have her supper. Her father was eating just then, for 
by the laws of Arabian pohteness women and children must 
wait for meals until their lords and masters have finished. 
She was hungry, yet she did not mind the delay, because 
she knew nothing else, and when you think all the world 
does things as you do, your way does not seem hard. So 
she watched the color flame across the western sky, hummed 
snatches of song, and made pictures in the sand with her 
fingers. 

Suddenly, away to the south, a yellow cloud seemed to 
rise out of the desert. It moved nearer, and as Zuleika 
watched it her dark eyes began to sparkle. She knew what 
it meant and it made her glad. 

"Father," she called, "some one is riding this way." 

Abi Ben Ahmed left his supper and came from the tent 
to see. The Arab is fond of his food and very loth to leave 
it, but when strangers almost never come by it is worth 
going without a meal to see them. 

"Yes," he agreed, as his piercing eyes scanned the southern 
horizon, "some one is traveling across the desert." 

Zuleika danced with delight. Only once or twice since she 



270 Educating by Story-Telling 

could remember had any one come to the camp, for it was 
in the very heart of EI Nedjed, and there was Uttle travehng 
in those far-off days. Long before, when she was a tiny 
girl, a traveler had come that way, and while he lingered 
at camp, told of the blue Persian Gulf beyond the Oman 
shore, and of the music of its plashing waves. No word 
has such a magical sound to the Arab as "water," and 
to hear of lakes and rivers of it is like some exquisite 
fairy tale. 

"It is a desert of water more beautiful than the land," 
he said in the soft, sweet tongue of the East. "Houris 
dwell there, and often when the moon is shining they come 
out and sport upon the sands." 

The tale fascinated her at the time, and had always 
stayed in her memory. That is why she was happy to see a 
stranger approaching. She thought he might tell her of the 
lovely realm beyond. 

As the cloud rolled nearer they saw a rider on a milk- 
white steed. Abi Ben Ahmed called to his men to come 
and welcome the stranger, for an Arab who lets even one 
slave stay away when a guest arrives, is lacking in courtesy. 
So they advanced, stalwart, dark-skinned men, whose tur- 
baned heads were bowed almost to the ground as they gave 
the low salaam of the East, while the chief spoke words of 
welcome to his camp. 

Very swarthy was the rider, and of proud demeanor that 
proclaimed him a person of much consequence, and as he 
returned Ben Abi's salute he spoke with dignity befitting his 
bearing. 

"I bring greeting from the sheik Ben Nedi," he announced. 
"He rides this way tomorrow." 

The chief replied, "Mighty is Ben Nedi, and a man of 
high esteem among his people. He shall have welcome and 
all that Arab hospitahty can offer." 

Then, leading the way, Ben Ahmed took the stranger to 



stories for Telling 271 

the tent, where camel's milk and dried goat's flesh were set 
before him. 

Zuleika, on the sand without, could hear their words, 
but the joyous light was no longer in her eyes. Her face 
was drawn in wrinkles, and her lip quivered as if she were 
about to cry. She knew that the man expected on the 
morrow was not only a powerful chieftain, but a teacher 
and prophet as well, and that according to the Arab custom 
every person in camp, even to the lowliest slave, would lay 
gifts before him. For it is believed by the desert people 
that to do so brings a blessing. But Zuleika, although she 
was a chieftain's daughter, had nothing to offer, for the 
wealth of Arab rulers is in their flocks and lands, and the 
poorest child of the West has more treasures than had this 
little princess of the desert. 

"If I had my baby camel I could give that," she thought 
as she listened to the murmurs in the women's tent and 
knew that all was excitement there over the coming of the 
stranger. 

But the camel she had loved and petted had died a few 
weeks before, and she had nothing else. 

"Do not grieve," her mother said when she saw tears in 
the big almond eyes and asked the reason they were there. 
"The law of giving does not apply to children, and the 
sheik Ben Nedi, who is as wise as he is powerful, knows 
that sometimes empty hands give most of all. The bless- 
ing comes of having the great desire, not through the treas- 
ure that is offered." 

But Zuleika did grieve, and the world seemed very dark. 
And after she went to bed she thought about it until she 
grew so restless she could not lie quietly. So she crept out- 
side and sat on the ground. 

It was midnight, and Abi Ben Ahmed and the stranger 
slept in the tent. The slaves, both men and women, were 
sleeping too, and nothing broke the stillness of the desert 



272 Educating by Story-Telling 

night save an occasional breeze that shifted the loose sand, 
or a stirring among the animals just beyond. She sat there 
for a minute, then stole out across the waste. Past the 
camel keep she went, hurrying through the silver of the 
moonlight until she came to a rock that rose out of the 
desert like a grizzled head facing westward. It was her 
favorite spot, for her mother had told her that a lovely houri 
(fairy) once made her haunt there, and she hoped she might 
come back and do wonderful things for her as she was said 
to have done in the long ago. So she climbed up and 
looked across the desert. 

Away to the west, glowing more brightly than any other 
in the sky, was the star that according to Arab teaching 
shines always over Mecca, the city of the Prophet. The 
sight of it made her grieve more than ever over the thought 
of her empty hands, and she began to cry. 

Then, with a sound of wonderfid music, a white creature 
rose out of the sands. Her beauty was more radiant than 
any of which Zuleika had ever dreamed, and jewels of many 
colors glistened in her hciir. Her smile was wonderfully 
sweet, and the girl knew it must be the good fairy returned 
to her old haunt. 

" Why do you weep ? " she asked. 

Zuleika answered with a low salaam, "The prophet comes 
tomorrow, and I have nothing to offer him because the 
baby camel I would have given is dead." 

"But you have a gift more precious than the others," 
the ftiiry spoke. 

The little girl was amazed. 

"II" she exclaimed. " Why, I have nothing 1 " 

"Ah, but you have," came the low reply. "The desire 
in the heart. That is the only thing worth giving, and 
that you have. But you shall have still another. Come 
here in the morning at sunrise, and you will find it on the 
sands." 



Stories for Telling 273 

The radiant creature glided away in the light, that dimmed 
as she went, and in a moment Zuleika could see only the 
desert and her father's camp beyond the rock. 

Creeping down, she went back to the tent to bed. But 
the beauty of the shining creature was in her eyes and 
brain, and she could not sleep. Eagerly she waited for the 
coming of morning, and as soon as she heard a stirring beyond 
the tents, and knew that Hassan, the camel keeper, was 
looking after the animals, she bounded out of bed and down 
to the place of rock. Her mother saw her go, but thought 
nothing about it, for it was the time of gray dawn when 
every Arab looks in prayer toward Mecca, and she was 
probably going to the fairy rock for her devotions. But 
Zuleika thought of something besides her prayers. 

When she came to the spot she stared around, wondering 
if it could be the place she had visited in the night. Then 
only a glittering waste stretched far as the eye could reach. 
Now there was a tree, straight and branchless almost to 
the crown, where from beneath wide-spreading leaves hung 
bunches of pulpy fruit. Nothing hke it had been seen on 
the desert before. 

Wild with dehght, she rushed back to camp and told of 
the wonder. 

" A tree on the desert 1 " her father exclaimed. "It can- 
not be." 

Nor could she make him believe so strange a thing had 
happened until she led him to the spot. But there it stood, 
with head held high hke an Arab sheik, and when he tasted 
of the fruit he found it good. 

In the late afternoon of the following day the caravan of 
the sheik Ben Nedi came to the camp of Abi Ben Ahmed. 
The women within the tents received him with singing, 
and the men with low salaams. Then the gifts were brought : 
the finest camels of the herd, turban cloth enough for all 
the men of his train, and silk, a portion of her mother's 



274 Educating by Story-Telling 

marriage dower worth the price of many camels. It had 
been brought by ship across the sea and by caravan over 
the desert, and was rainbow-hued and fine, such as is woven 
only in the Vale of Cashmere. The great man received 
them with gratitude, and spoke words of praise for the 
tribe of Ben Ahmed. "Surely nothing more splendid can be 
set before a sheik," he seiid. 

But the chief smiled and answered, "Not so, mighty 
prophet ! Zuleika's gift, the finest of all, is yonder on the 
desert." 

Then he led the way to the place of rock and pointed to 
the wonder tree that had sprung up in the night. Ben Nedi 
found the fruit coohng and sweet, and as he listened to the 
story, he stood with dewy eyes. 

"The gift of a child's tears!" he exclaimed. "Yes, that 
is most precious of all. The Arab will bless the day it 
came to be." 

And the prophecy was fulfilled. It still grows in the 
depths of the desert, the wonder tree of the East that men 
call the date palm, and the Arab blesses it whenever he rides 
that way. He knows that for a thousand years and more 
it has been the salvation of the solitary wanderer across the 
wastes, and that as long as it lifts its stately head above 
the sands he will have food from its fruit, clothing from its 
fiber, and shelter from the noonday heat. 



THE GIFT OF THE GNOMES 
The Swiss Legend of the Alp Horn 

(Geography — Ethics) 

In the days of long ago a chamois hunter, caught in a 
storm on the mountains, took refuge in a deserted hut. The 
floor was so wet and cold that to stay there was almost aa 



stories for Telling 275 

bad as being out in the rain and hail, and so he climbed 
into the loft and lay down on a pile of straw. 

Just how long he slept he did not know, but after a while 
he was awakened by the tinkle of bells and the lowing of 
many cattle. That seemed very strange, for it was almost 
winter, and Swiss herdsmen drive their flocks to the valley 
early in the autumn. Yet as he looked out through the tiny 
window he saw herds on every alp, herds hundreds strong, 
cropping luxuriant grass that grew out of the snow. 

Then he heard a noise below in the hut, and peeping down 
through a knot hole, saw three strange-looking httle men. 
They were warming themselves beside a fire that blazed on 
the hearth, and by their long green cloEtks and red caps he 
knew that they were gnomes of the Alps. 

They were busthng about and seemed to be making cheese. 
One of them stirred the milk in a big silver kettle, one 
scurried in and out of the hut bringing fresh milk to add to 
that which was already cooking, and one fed the fire with 
moss and diy branches, which piled up out of the earth. 

After a while one of the gnomes poured something into 
the kettle, the second one brought out three golden bowls, 
and the third blew a blast on a horn that was seven times 
as large as himself. 

Then the hunter heard the sound of cattle lowing nearer 
and nearer, as if they were drawn by the music of the horn, 
and a moment later a voice called out, "Come down from 
the loft, Moni, and taste of the good things in the bowls." 

This amazed him, for he was sure they had not seen him, 
and how could they know his name? But he crept down 
from his straw pile, as he was bid, and into the room. 

"Choose whichever you please," the little man said, "and 
besides the drink in the bowl you will receive a gift that 
goes with the liquid of your choice." 

The golden bowls stood side by side on the floor, and 
each one contained a difi'erent-colored liquid. One was 



276 Educating by Story-Telling 

red, like the wine of Geneva, one yellow as the honey of 
Zurich, and the third was white hke goat's milk. Moni 
looked from one to the other, deciding which to take. He 
was hungry from his long tramp over the crags in the storm 
and needed milk far more than honey or wine, so he chose 
that bowl and drank greedily. 

Then the little gnomes began to dance. 

"Ah," the cheese maker shouted, "you have won the 
Alp horn!" 

"Yes," another exclaimed, "and it is a precious gift. 
You can make other horns like it, and teach the people how 
to call their herds, which will not stray away and be lost as 
happens now. Thus the herdsmen will become very pros- 
perous." 

"But remember, if you wish to be happy, you must give 
up chamois hunting, and never again kill a harmless wild 
creature." 

The gnomes disappeared, and with them went the cattle, 
the kettle, and the shining bowls. But the horn lay where 
the little man had dropped it, and as the hunter looked at 
it he found it was pure silver. Catching it up, he ran down 
the mountain side to the hut where his sweetheart Uved. 
He told her the story and showed her the Alp horn, and she 
was very happy; for she never had wanted him to be a 
chamois hunter, as the life was full of danger, and she loved 
the poor little animals that he killed. Now he would tend 
flocks as she did, and they would be happy in the life of 
herding. 

At first the hunter thought he could not change his ways, 
for he loved to roam over the mountains and bound from 
crag to crag in pursuit of the fleet-footed creatures, but the 
promise of the gnomes and the pleas of Heidi persuaded 
him, and he gathered a herd and tended it aU summer. 

He made an Alp horn like the one he had received in the 
hut and gave it to the maiden, and sometimes as they tended 



stories for Telling 277 

their cattle on different sides of the valley, they would call 
across to each other, and they were happy and contented 
— until, one evening, he forgot the warning of the gnomes 
and shot a chamois. 

Then he raised his horn to call good night to his sweet- 
heart. But she did not answer. He blew blast after blast, 
but only the echoes came back, instead of the sound of the 
voice he knew and loved. Darkness fell £uid stars flashed 
like diamonds above the snowy Jungfrau, and still he called 
and sought her, but found no trace. The next morning, as 
he moved with his herd, a boy told him of a strange happening. 

"Last night at sunset time I was watching my goats," 
he said, "and saw a girl standing on the mountain side 
above her cattle. She smiled as the wine color of the Alpine 
glow crept down toward Chamounix, and throwing back 
her head, sang one of our herd songs. Suddenly she dis- 
appeared, but she could not have fallen, and just then an 
arrow whizzed through the air and fell on the spot where 
she had been standing." 

He took the arrow out of his peasant blouse and showed 
it to the hunter, who recognized it as his own, the one he 
had shot at the chamois. 

Then Moni remembered the words of the gnomes, and 
knew that because he had forgotten their warning he had 
lost Heidi. He burned his arrows and sorrowfully went back 
to herding, never again to shoot a wild creature of the hills. 
By day he followed the cattle, and by night made Alp 
horns, always thinking of his sweetheart. But he never 
saw her again. Some of the herdsmen say that she fled in 
grief because he broke his word to her, and some declare that 
the gnomes carried her away to an ice palace in a crevasse. 
But nobody knows. They know only that from that time 
forth he tended flocks and made Alp horns, until every 
herdsman in the mountains had one, and because they 
could keep the cattle from straying and getting lost, they 



278 Educating by Story-Telling 

became more prosperous than they had ever dreamed of 
being. 

Since then every peak and valley in Switzerland has re- 
sounded to the notes of the Alp horn. Throughout the sum- 
mer time they are heard around the lakes of Zug and Geneva, 
and the cattle follow them as the children of Hamelin town 
followed the music of the piper. They echo along the 
Jungfrau as the shepherds behind Interlaken call their 
flocks together, and their weird sweet blasts mingle with 
the songs of herd girls as they yodel to each other across the 
ravines. Travelers from every land smile at the sound of 
them, for one of the charms of going to Switzerland is in 
hearing the Alp horns; but very few of these strangers 
know that the mountain people say the reason the sound is 
so magical to the cattle is because in the beginning the 
horn came from the gnomes. 



THE DUTY THAT WASN'T PAID 

(Biography — Music — Ethics) 

More than a hundred years ago a man and his two chil- 
dren were journeying from their home in Salzburg to Vienna. 
They traveled by the Danube boat, and Marianne, the sister, 
stood by the rail tossing pebbles into the water and watch- 
ing the turbulent river swallow them up. Her dress was 
worn almost threadbare, but her face was so sweet and her 
eyes were so large and bright that she looked pretty for all 
her shabbiness. 

Just behind her on the deck her father and brother were 
talking. "If we make some money in the city you'll buy 
sister a new dress, won't you, Father?" little Wolfgang 
asked. 



stories for Telling 279 

Marianne whirled and started toward him. She knew 
that was sure to make her father sad, and she called, "Don't 
coax, Wolfgang. My dress will do very well until we can 
afford to buy another, and a new one will seem all the nicer 
because of my having worn this one so long." 

Her brother turned his big, earnest eyes upon her, and 
answered, "But, Marianne, I know you want one. I heard 
you wish for it by the evening star, and last night you 
put it in your prayer." 

Father Mozart turned from them with a sad look on his 
face, and walked up and down the deck, wishing very much 
he could do what Wolfgang asked. But he was just a poor 
orchestra conductor with an income so small he had to 
stretch it hard to provide food and shelter for his family. 
Marianne must wear the shabby frock until better times 
began, which he hoped would be soon. They were to give 
some concerts in the Austrian capital, and maybe in that 
rich, music-loving city would earn enough to make them 
more comfortable than they had been before. But until 
then thfiy must not spend a penny save what was needed 
for food and shelter, because the customs fee on the harp 
they carried must be paid, and that would reduce their 
little fund to a very small amount. 

Wolfgang, too, thought about it as the boat crept in and 
out between the hills, and wondered much if there was no 
way in which Marianne might have the dress before they 
played in Vienna. His old teacher in Salzburg had often 
told him that there is a way out of every difficulty if one is 
clever enough to think of it, and there must be out of this. 
But although he tried and tried he could not find one. His 
own suit was bright and new, for his birthday was just past 
and it had been his uncle's gift. But Marianne was a very 
shabby little girl, and he knew she was unhappy even though 
she was brave and sweet about it. 

They were gliding past the ruins of the castle that once, 



280 Educating by Story-Telling 

men said, had been the prison of Richard the First, Eng^ 
land's Lion-Hearted King, when his enemies took him cap- 
tive on his return from the holy wars. Wolfgang thought 
of the many brave things that soldier ruler had done during 
the Crusades, for often in the twilight time at Salzburg, as 
they waited for the father to come from his work, the mother 
told his tale, and of how the faithful servant Blondel found 
him at last by singing a song he knew the master loved. 

"He was very brave and wise, too," the boy thought as he 
looked at the crumbling pile. "He would have found a way 
for Marianne to have a new dress if she had been his sister." 

Was it the prayer being answered, or just the fulfillment 
of the wish made by the evening star ? For while he thought, 
an idea came into his head. It was a good idea, it seemed 
to him, so good that it made him smile. If it worked out, 
and he believed it would, Marianne might have the dress 
she wanted so much, because then his father would have 
more money to spend. 

Just to the south they could see the great spire of St. 
Stephens, a tall, gray finger against the sky, which told 
that Vienna was not far away. As it grew nearer and nearer, 
looming up bigger and plainer before them, Wolfgang thought 
more and more of his idea, until when they reached the 
mooring his eyes were dancing tuid his cheeks were aflame. 
His father believed the thought of seeing the great capital 
had excited him, but that was not it at all. He had a secret 
plan and could hardly wait until he knew whether or not it 
would work out. 

The journey was ended and the people were going ashore. 
"Please loosen the cover, Father," he said as Leopold 
Mozart carried the harp toward the customs gate. 

"Ah, you are proud of it!" the man answered with a 
smile. 

Wolfgang did not reply, thinking what a poor guesser his 
father was. He watched him as he set the instrument down 



stories for Telling 281 

and undid the wrapping, bringing the polished frame and 
glistening strings into full view. Then he went over and 
took his place beside the harp as the customs officer drew 
near, and Marianne came and stood beside him. She had 
forgotten all about her shabby dress in her eagerness to find 
out how much duty they would have to pay. 

"What have you to declare?" the man asked. 

"Only a harp," Leopold Mozart answered, as he laid his 
hand on their one treasure. 

"It is a beautiful instrument and valuable," the official 
said as he looked at it, and named as the price of the duty 
an amount so big as to cut their little hoard almost in half. 

Father Mozart's face grew very serious, and the merri- 
ment went out of Marianne's eyes. But Wolfgang did not 
worry at all. He still had that idea in his mind, and be- 
lieved it would work out. 

Leopold Mozart reached into his pocket for the little 
sack containing his savings, but it was not necessary to open 
it, for just as he was about to do so Wolfgang started to 
play. The customs officer turned with a start and listened, 
and the people gathered there forgot all about duty charges 
as they crowded around the httle musician. His tiny hands 
swept the strings as if his fingers had some magic power, 
and the melody they made was sweeter than any ever heard 
on that old wharf. For five minutes, ten, he kept at it, 
and there was not a whisper or a murmur, only a sort of 
breathless surprise that one so young could play so wonder- 
fully. 

"What!" one exclaimed as he finished, "a lad of his age 
to perform like that !" 

"Yes," the father answered with a smile, "he does well at 
the harp." 

"Amazing," the officer murmured, "'tis amazing 1 I've 
heard many a good harpist in my day, but never any- 
thing sweeter than that. Play some more, boy," he said. 



282 Educating by Story-Telling 

Wolfgang smiled. The idea was working out, and he 
was very glad. Already he had visions of a happy sister in 
a handsome new gown, and turning again to the instrument, 
he played even more beautifully than before, for the glad- 
ness that crept into his heart was creeping also into the 
music. 

For some minutes he picked the strings, while the people 
listened as if held in a spell, until the father said, "We must 
go now, for it is getting late, and we have yet to find lodgings 
in the city." And he handed the money to the officer. 

But the man shook his head. "No," he said, and his 
eyes were very tender as he spoke. "A boy who can give 
as much pleasure as that deserves something. Keep the 
money and buy a present for him." 

As Wolfgang heard the words he gave a bound. " Father," 
he exclaimed, with sparkhng eyes, "buy the dress for 
Marianne. You can do it now, since you have saved the 
customs money." 

The officer looked at him in amazement. "He is a won- 
derful lad, truly," he exclaimed, "and as kind as he is 
wonderful 1" 

"Yes," came the low reply. "He has wanted nothing so 
much as'^a new dress for his sister, and now he is happy 
because he thinks she will get it." 

And she did get it, too, a beautiful one of soft, bright red, 
all trimmed with shining buttons. Wolfgang danced with 
delight when he saw it, and there was no happier child in all 
that great capital. 

They gave many concerts there, some before the royal 
family; and Maria Theresa, the empress, became greatly 
attached to both brother and sister, gave them handsome 
clothes and beautiful gifts, and forgot all about affairs of 
state while Wolfgang played. She called him the "little 
sorcerer," and agreed with the customs officer that he was a 
wonderful child. 



stories for Telling 283 

Then, after some weeks, they went back to the home in 
Salzburg, where the boy kept on at his music, doing such 
marvelous things that his fame traveled far. He grew to 
be the great master, Mozart, at whose glorious music the 
world still wonders, and he was a generous and sweet-souled 
man, just as he was a big-hearted and thoughtful child. 
Many lovely acts are told of him, but none that shows his 
kindness and tenderness in a more delightful way than 
when as a boy on the Vienna whaif he charmed the customs 
officer and all others who heard, and Marianne had the 
dress for which she had wished by the evening star with 
the duty money that wasn't paid. 



WILHELMINA'S WOODEN SHOES 

{Biography — Art Teaching) 

It was summer time, and a boy named Rembrandt van 
Rijn w£is lying on top of the ramparts that walled in the 
city of Ley den, his eyes fixed on the yellow highroad that 
stretched away toward The Hague. It was good to be there 
in the shadow of the mill sails, for the trees beyond were 
beautifully green, and he loved to watch the market folk 
coming and going, loved to see strangers journeying from 
far away and to dream of the time when he, too, would fare 
forth to see the world. Instead of being a miller like his 
father and living always beside the Leyden ramparts, he 
would go to Amsterdam, where ships sailed in from the 
Indies, and perhaps he would board one of those wonderful 
craft and journey over leagues of ocean to distant realms 
of the East. The thought brought a smile to his face and 
a deeper blue to his eyes, and he whistled a strain from an 
old Dutch song of rejoicing. 

Suddenly he started up in surprise, for a famihar figure 



284 Educating by Story-Telling 

was coming along the Rhine road. It looked hke his Uncle 
Peter, but that seemed impossible, for it was Satm-day morn- 
ing, and his uncle was an industrious merchant who was 
never known to leave his shop on business days. Then as 
the man hurried through the great gate that opened into 
the city, Rembrandt saw that it was his Uncle Peter ; and 
his surprise changed to alarm, for he believed his uncle's 
coming would mean trouble for him. 

The day before, in the Latin school, he had drawn pictures 
on his cousin Wilhelmina's wooden shoes and had been 
caught. She was quite wiUing to have them decorated, 
and laughed merrily at sight of the ducks and chickens and 
spotted pigs marching from heel to toe ; but Mynheer Speel- 
burg, the teacher, had a very different idea. He considered 
that it was defacing property, and wasting one's time as 
well. Although Wilhelmina declared it was all her fault, 
Rembrandt was severely scolded, and the master sent a 
note home to his uncle. Now the uncle was probably com- 
ing to tell the boy's father about it, and the thought sent 
all the brightness out of the day. 

The merchant did not notice Rembrandt until he had 
passed the ramparts and a cawing crow caused him to turn 
and see the boy on top of the wall. Then he looked up and 
smiled, which did not seem like anger, and yet — what 
else could have taken him from the shop on Saturday 
morning ? 

"I've come to have a talk with your mother," he said as 
he stopped a moment. 

Rembrandt chmbed down to go with him, hoping that 
something besides the shoes had brought him, but the man 
shook his head. 

"No, stay where you are," he said. "I want to see your 
mother alone." 

Again the uneasy feeling surged over the lad. After all, 
it must be those wooden shoes, and he felt very uncom- 



stories for Telling 285 

fortable; and a little later, when both mother and uncle 
came from the house and hurried to the mill, he wished 
very much that he never had seen pigs and fowls — most of 
all that he had not drawn them on his cousin's shoes. Then 
his father called to him, and although he wanted to creep 
away and hide, he went on the run. 

"Here's the young rascal," the uncle said as the boy 
went in at the broad, low door. Rembrandt noticed that 
he held one of Wilhelmina's shoes, and his heart sank. 
But a moment later he was as much amazed as he had 
been alarmed, for his mother spoke pleasantly and asked, 
"Would you really like to be a painter?" 

"A painter?" he answered quickly. "More than any- 
thing else in the world." 

Then his father smiled, too, which seemed strange indeed, 
for he had declared that his son never should become an 
artist. Often Rembrandt had dreamed of being one, and 
when he spoke to his mother about it the idea seemed to 
please her. But the sturdy Dutch miller shook his head 
and announced that his boy must become a syndic, one of 
the wise lawgivers of Holland, or else a miller like himself. 
So, instead of being allowed to spend his days drawing the 
pictures that were constantly running through his fancy, 
Rembrandt had been sent to the Latin school to do sums 
and conjugations. It seemed impossible that the miller 
could have changed his mind ; but he had changed it, for 
he said, "Very well. We will see about it." 

Then, while the mill sails whirred above them, and the 
voices of passing market folk came in through the open 
window, the merchant uncle told what seemed to Rembrandt 
a wonderful story. 

"This morning, as I was opening the shop," he began, 
" Speelburg, the schoolmaster, came to talk about the pictures 
on Wilhelmina's shoes. He urged me not to be too hard on 
the lad because he had thought much about it during the 



286 Educating by Story-Telling 

night and had come to beheve that perhaps Rembrandt 
cannot help drawing. He is a wise man, this Speelburg, 
and told me much of how the young masters Giotto, Cima- 
bue, and Raphael had made pictures on stones, sand, and 
anything that would hold a drawing, and that their parents 
could no more prevent it than they could keep water from 
running downhill. He thinks our Rembrandt may be like 
them, and so he offered to tend the shop for me if I would 
come and ask you, his father, to let him study with Master 
Swannenburg." 

Those words were music to Rembrandt's ears, for Swan- 
nenburg was the master painter of Leyden. 

An hour later, miller and merchant went through the old 
White Gate into the city, and Rembrandt trudged along 
beside them, cairying a roll of paper. As they hurried along 
the highway his eyes gleamed, for it seemed to him hke a 
dream come true, and the stern Dutch schoolmaster began 
to appear in the guise of a fairy godfather. He did not see 
the mEuket folk they passed on the way, did not hear the 
murmur of the Rhine sweeping seaward just beyond them, 
for the thought that he might become a painter had crowded 
out all other things. 

Very soon they reached the workshop of the artist, 'and 
knew what the great man thought of the sketches, for as 
he looked them over he murmured, "H'm, h'm! Pretty 
good ! The old woman's head is too small for her body, 
and a pig never had legs as crooked as that ; but he will 
learn, and if he is wilhng to work I'll gladly take him as a 
pupil." 

So Rembrandt went into the studio of the painter, for 
his father had come to beheve that he was intended for 
neither a syndic nor a miller. He was so eager to learn that 
he worked with all his might, and his progress amazed his 
teacher, who, although he knew he had talent, had not 
dreamed he could advance so rapidly. Before two years 



stories for Telling 287 

were gone his pictures were better than those of Swannen- 
burg himself, who said sadly one day, "I am no longer the 
master painter of Ley den." 

But that artist had a great, good heart, and he was so glad 
to see the boy's progress that he helped him all he could. 

Now it happened, about the time the work of the miller's 
son was causing Leyden folk to open their eyes, that Jan 
Lievens, who was a successful painter in Amsterdam, came 
home to visit his parents, who were neighbors of Rembrandt's 
family. He was greatly excited over the work of his young 
friend and exclaimed, "You must go back to Amsterdam 
with me, for the best masters of Holland are there, and you 
must study with them." 

The idea seemed good to the miller, who was very proud 
of the progress of his son ; so to Amsterdam young Rem- 
brandt went, where he progressed as amazingly as he had 
done in the studio of Swannenburg. The great harbor city 
fascinated him, and he loved to roam along its splendid 
streets watching the people hurrying to and fro or idling in 
groups on the corners, laughing and chatting in their merry 
Dutch way ; loved to go to the docks where ships came in 
from the Indies, and to see the sunrise and sunset painting 
marvelous-hued pictures on the waves of the wild North 
Sea. Then he would go back to the studio and work, pic- 
turing the men and women he saw on his rambles, the mill 
by the old White Gate, and the market folk he used to watch 
from the Leyden ramparts. His paintings dehghted the 
great of Amsterdam just as the pigs and chickens he drew 
on Wilhelmina's shoes had delighted the boys and girls in 
the Latin school, and he became rich and famous. He lived 
in a palace fine enough for a prince, and could have bought 
whole cargoes of those ships that sailed in from the Indies ; 
and his wealth seemed all the more glorious because he had 
earned it with the labor of his hand and brain. He married 
a great and gracious lady, and as his children drove through 



288 Educating by Story-Telling 

the streets in their fine carriage the people would say, "See, 
the son and daughter of Rembreindt van Rijn, the wonder- 
ful painter." 

But all his good fortune and all the honors heaped upon 
him did not make him selfish and overbearing. He never 
forgot or ceased to love his native Leyden. He lived in 
the harbor city because it fascinated him and was a better 
place for an artist than his childhood town, but he never 
tired of going back to the old home or lost interest in the 
pigs and cows and the market folk on the Rhine road. Some- 
times on these visits he would lie on the ramparts just as 
he had done when a boy, and strangers journeying to and 
from The Hague had no idea that the grave-eyed man dream- 
ing there in the shadow of the mill sails was the famous 
painter of Amsterdam. 

Then, one day he died, and they laid him to rest in the 
harbor city where for so many years he had lived and worked. 
The people of Leyden asked to have him taken back there, 
and those who know how he loved it wish it had been done ; 
for it would be pleasant to think of him sleeping in the 
shadow of the mill sails, and perhaps if he could have been 
asked he would have wanted it, too. 

Years passed, but instead of dimming the glory of Rem- 
brandt's name they brightened it. After his death his works 
became priceless, and the world still prizes them just as 
Amsterdam prized them two hundred years ago. To own a 
canvas by this king of Dutch painters is to be rich and 
envied, for it requires a great deal of money to buy one of 
his paintings. Even the crude drawings of his boyhood are 
now treasured by princes, and one of the most prized posses- 
sions of a great museum in Holland is a pair of wooden shoes. 
They are brown and clumsy and covered with marks, half 
of which have been worn away by the staining finger of 
Time; but a fortune could not buy them, because ever so 
long ago they were worn by little Wilhelmina van Rijn to 



stories for Telling 289 

the Latin school of Leyden, and were decorated by the 
hand of a mill boy, and who would not be proud to own 
them ? That mill boy became the immortal Flemish painter, 
Rembrandt, whose work will be treasured as long as the 
world loves beautiful things. 



THE LADY OF STAVOREN 
Retold from a Dutch Legend 

(Geography — Ethics) 

There was once, in Holland, a great and beautiful city 
called Stavoren. It stood beside the sea, and many of the 
inhabitants were proud and rich. They had houses stately 
enough for royal palaces. They had gold and silver plate 
and diamonds without number, and great oaken chests 
filled with money. Their vessels sailed to the farthest parts 
of the ocean and brought back treasures from every land, 
and as the wealth of the people increased their selfishness 
increased, until they thought of nothing but their good for- 
tune and had no pity for the poor. 

Richest of all the rich folk in the city was a stately, beauti- 
ful woman. There was no home in Stavoren as princely 
as hers, there were no jewels as gorgeous or silks and velvets 
as lustrous as those she possessed, and when she drove 
through the streets in her gold-blazoned carriage her splen- 
dor dazzled the eyes of all who saw. But she was as selfish 
as she was rich and powerful, and always she pondered in 
her mind the question, "How can I become richer still?" 

One day she summoned the captain of her largest vessel 
and said, "Make ready to sail at once." 

"Yes, madame," the officer replied, "but where shall I 
go and upon what mission?" 

"Where you go you must decide for yourself, for I care 



290 Educating by Story-Telling 

nothing about that. But you must bring back the most 
precious cargo in all the world." 

The man looked at her in surprise. 

"That shall I gladly do, madame," he said, "if you will 
but tell me what you wish. Is it to be gold and silver, 
diamonds and jewels, or rare laces, tapestries, and velvets?" 

The rich woman tossed her head and replied haughtily, 
"There is but one thing in the world more precious than 
all others, and what it is you must find out. I have given 
my orders. Go now and fulfill them." 

The captain was greatly troubled, for he feared the anger 
of his mistress. She was so powerful that she could have 
him thrown into prison or even put to death if she chose, 
and as he walked down the street from the house he thought, 
"What is the most precious thing in all the world?" 

Sometimes he thought it was one thing and sometimes 
another, but when he reached the shipyard he had not 
decided. He called to the officers and sailors standing there, 
told them of the womeui's strange order, £ind said sadly, 
"But, alas! I know not what it may be. If any among 
you can teU, let him speak." 

Every one thought a minute, then came a chorus of sug- 
gestions. One officer suggested gold, another silver, and 
another precious stones, but the captain was not sure which 
was right. He must not decide too quickly, for to make a 
mistake would be a terrible thing. 

Silently listening the sailors stood, for according to the 
law of the city they must not open their lips until the officers 
had had their say. Then one of the group, a slender, blue- 
eyed fellow, who seemed no more than a boy, said, "No, my 
captain ! The most precious thing in the world is neither 
gold and silver, pearls and diamonds, nor costly laces and 
velvets. It is wheat, for without it we could have no bread, 
and without bread we cannot live." 

Some of the officers laughed at this idea, for common 



stories for Telling 291 

sailors were not supposed to know much. But the cap- 
tain quieted them, saying, "He is right. We will sail away 
and bring back a cargo of wheat." 

So they sailed out of the harbor, and across the Baltic to 
Dantzic. There they bought a great cargo of wheat, the 
largest that had ever been started out to sea, and the cap- 
tciin, dehghted with the purchase, turned the ship's prow 
back toward Stavoren town. 

He could hardly wait to get to his mistress and tell her 
what a wise and wonderful choice he had made. She 
frowned when she saw him, displeased that he had returned 
so soon. 

"You must have flown like a pigeon," she said. "Have 
you brought me the cargo I ordered?" 

"Yes, madame," he rephed, bowing low before her. "I 
have the finest cargo of wheat that ever went out of a port." 

The woman screamed in anger, "Wheat!" she yelled. 
" A cargo of wheat ! I told you to bring me the most precious 
thing in the world, and do you mean to say that you have 
brought a common, cheap thing like wheat .i^" 

The captain was terribly frightened, but he did not regret 
his selection. He believed in the value of his cargo, and 
tried to lead the woman to see that he had made a wise 
purchase. 

"Pardon, madame," he spoke. "Wheat is not cheap 
and common. It is in truth the most precious thing in the 
world, for without it we could have no bread, and without 
bread we could not hve." 

But he could not convince his mistress. She tossed her 
head and wrung her hands in anger and exclaimed, "Wheat ! 
WTieat ! Go to the port and throw your precious cargo of 
wheat into the sea." 

The captain was horrified. 

"Madame!" he exclaimed, "surely you do not com- 
mand me to do that I Wheat is precious. If you will not 



292 Educating by Story-Telling 

have it yourself, give it to the poor and hungry, of whom 
there are many in Stavoren." 

But she drove him from the house, saying, "Do as I bid 
you. In a few minutes I shall come myself to see if you 
have carried out my order." 

Sadly the man went down the street, wondering how one 
so rich and beautiful could be so hard and unkind. But he 
had no thought of executing the order. Instead, he told all 
the poor he met, and dispatched messengers to tell others, 
that his mistress had refused to accept the cargo of wheat 
and perhaps, if they came to the port and asked her, she 
would give it to them. 

A little later the great lady of Stavoren drove in her 
gold-emblazoned carriage to the shipyard, where a group of 
men, women, and children had joined the sailors and stood 
looking at the splendid vessel piled high with the best wheat 
that ever came out of Dantzic. But when she saw them 
her anger increased. 

"Have you carried out my orders?" she said to the 
captain, as he came in answer to her summons and stood 
beside the carriage. 

"No, madame, not yet," he repHed. 

"Then," the woman commanded, "do it at once. Throw 
the cargo of wheat into the sea. I want to see, myself." 

But the captain shook his head, " See these poor people," 
he said, pointing to the hoUow-eyed men, women, and 
children who were standing there. "Give them the wheat, 
for they are hungry." 

But the haughty woman silenced him and commanded, 
"Throw it into the sea !" 

Then the captain seemed afraid no longer. He stood 
straight and fearless before her and declared, "Never, 
madame 1" 

But she shouted word to the officers, who dared not dis- 
obey, and amid the cries and pleas of the poor, the cargo 



stories for Telling 293 

that would have meant bread for thousands, was thrown into 
the sea. 

The woman watched the waters swallow it up and smiled 
heartlessly. Then she called to the people, "Did you see 
it go into the waves ? " 

"Yes, madame," they answered sadly. 

"Yes, madame," repeated the captain, "and a day will 
come when you will regret what you have done. A day will 
come when you will be hungry, and no one will pity and help 

you." 

The mistress looked at him in amazement. Then she 
laughed loudly. "I, go hungry," she exclaimed, "I, the 
richest of all the rich of Stavoren ! It is impossible !" 

Then she took a diamond ring, held it up for the people 
to see, and tossed it into the ocean. "When that ring re- 
turns into my hand," she said, "I shall believe what the 
captain has said." And she drove away in her splendid 
carriage, and boasted to the citizens of what she had done. 

The next day one of her servants came running to her in 
wild excitement. "Madame," she cried, "the cook has found 
this in the stomach of a fish he is preparing for dinner." 
And she held up the diamond ring the woman had tossed 
into the sea the day before. 

The great lady of Stavoren opened her eyes wide and 
wider. She was amazed and frightened, for she remembered 
the captain's words. "Can it be," she thought, "that they 
are to come true ? " 

It proved to be just as she feared, for that same afternoon 
she received word of the destruction of all her ships, of the 
loss of all her houses and lands, of the piUaging of her chests 
of gold. She was no longer the richest woman in Stavoren, 
but was as poor as any beggar. She went from house to 
house, begging for food as pitifully as the people at the port 
had begged her for wheat, but no one helped her, and at last 
she died from cold and hunger. 



294 Educating by Story-Telling 

The other rich folk of Stavoren still hved on in the old 
selfish way. They drove through the streets in sumptuous 
carriages. They wore costly clothing and jewels, they 
danced and feasted and sailed their vessels out across the 
seas, forgetful of every one but themselves. There were 
still many poor in the city, but they neither thought nor 
cared about them. They believed themselves to be so great 
and powerful that nothing could harm them, and they re- 
fused to listen to advice. 

After a while the port of Stavoren became blocked by a 
great sandbank. It rose just at the spot where the lady's 
cargo had been thrown into the sea, and was covered with 
wheat. Ships could no longer go in £uid out. Commerce 
was ruined, and because there were no vessels to unload, the 
poor lost the only way they had of making a living. They 
begged the rich people to help them dig the bar away, but 
they refused. They had enough to eat and plenty of gold, 
so what cared they for the distress of the laborers ? 

Then something else happened. One night as they 
feasted, a man came running into the banquet hall. "I 
have found two fish in my well," he said. "The dike is 
broken. Protect the city ! Protect the houses of the poor 
that are close to the sea wall and will be swept away." 

But one of the great folk said haughtily, "Let the beggars 
take care of themselves. The sea cannot harm us. We 
must finish the banquet." They turned away from him and 
went on with their revelry, but only for a short time. A 
few hours later the entire dike gave away, and the ocean 
rolled in and covered the houses, — not only the huts of the 
poor which were in the low quarter of the city, but even the 
palaces of the rich who had declared they could not be harmed. 
The great perished as well as the humble, and the waves of 
the ZuiderZee rolled where the banquet laughter had sounded. 

It roUs there still. The sailors say that sometimes when 
the weather is fine and the sea is smooth as glass, they see 



stories for Telling 295 

spires and domes and stately columns far down under the 
water. They declare, too, that often strange, weird music 
like the sound of distant bells falls upon their ears, and then 
they look and hsten and nod to each other, for they think 
of the palaces and chimes of Stavoren, once the fairest city 
of the Netherlands, submerged hundreds of years ago while 
the poor cried for help and the mighty danced. 



THE LUCK BOAT OF LAKE GENEVA 
A Swiss Legend 

(Geography) 

The Alpine herdsmen say that in the marvelous long ago 
an enchanted boat was seen gUding up and down the blue 
waters of Lake Geneva. Neither oars nor sails were needed 
to speed it over the waves, for it was drawn by singing swans 
and carried a fairy crew. A radiant creature in a robe whiter 
than goat's milk stood on the prow, her gleaming hair rip- 
pling down over the hem of her garment. She bore a golden 
basket of rare fruits and flowers, and although she scattered 
the contents with lavish hand upon the sprites at her feet, 
it was never empty. Sometimes the vessel touched the 
shore, and then the soil around that spot produced as never 
soil produced before or since, and if any peasant was so 
fortunate as to catch a gUmpse of the boat, he and his chil- 
dren became rich beyond want and were blessed and happy 
to the end of their days. 

For hundreds of years the magic ship sailed the lake, and 
as it touched the shore frequently and numbers of peasants 
saw it, there was wonderful prosperity in Old Helvetia. 

But a great misfortune befell the country and the glad, 
abundant days became but a memory. A steamboat was 
brought to Geneva, and it plowed, a screaming, snorting 



296 Educating by Story-Telling 

monster, across the waters. The noise terrified the gentle 
swans, and with one wild cry they flew away. Never again 
did the peasants catch a glimpse of the white-robed fairy 
and the shining sprites. Never again did the music of the 
snowy pilots gladden their ears. 

The Luck Boat disappeared, and with it went prosperity 
from the land of Geneva. But marvelous things hke that 
are never forgotten. Those who had seen the fairy craft 
in their youth told the story to their sons and daughters, 
who passed it on to their children and their children's chil- 
dren, and although the mountain folk of today have never 
beheld it, they know just how it looked. They have pic- 
tured it so often in their minds, that their artists have pic- 
tured it on paper, and so it has become the custom for the 
peasants around Lake Geneva to send "Luck cards" to 
their friends on New Year's Day. These are gay, colored 
postals containing a likeness of the Luck Boat, and to those 
of whom a peasant is fondest he sends as many as he can 
afford, because to receive them is supposed to bring good 
fortune, just as a glimpse of the swan-drawn vessel was said 
to do in the marvelous long ago. 



WHY THE JAPANESE LOVE THE STORK 

A Japanese Legend 

(Geography) 

Ages ago, in the Japanese city of Nagasaki, there lived a 
young and handsome noble named Vasobiove. Life seemed 
very beautiful to him. He loved the blossoms that are so 
sweet and abundant in his native Saikaido, loved the racing 
and the wrestling matches, the sunset on the purple Gulf of 
Sinabara, the evening festivals with the dances of the geisha 
girls, and his only sorrow was the thought that he could not 
live forever. 



stories for Telling 297 

"Alas, to have to leave this beautiful world!" he often 
sighed. 

At which his old father would say, "Fear not, my son. 
By the time you are threescore years and ten you will think 
differently." 

But the young noble would shake his head and reply, 
"Nay, nay, I want to live always, always." 

One day an aged pilgrim came into Nagasaki and rested 
on a stone outside Vasobiove's garden. The owner was 
walking under the tulip trees, and seeing the sad-looking man 
in the sun and dust of the road, called and bade him come 
into the shade of his park. 

Leaning heavily upon his staff, the wanderer came and 
sat down beside the fountain, and the young noble asked him 
many a question of lands and men he had seen. 

"Is it throughout the world as here in Japan," he ques- 
tioned, "that people must die even while they yearn to hve ? " 

The aged pilgrim nodded. 

"Yea," he answered, "in all the lands through which I 
have journeyed. But men have told me that there is a 
region where death never comes." 

The young noble leaned forward eagerly. "Where is it," 
he questioned, "ah, where? Tell me, for I mean to go to 
that land." 

The pilgrim shook his head, saying, "That you cannot do, 
my son. It is in the Happy Islands of Everlasting Life, but 
although mortals have seen them in the distance, never has 
one succeeded in entering there." 

"But I must, I will reach that land!" Vasobiove ex- 
claimed. 

His father, who was old and wise, begged him not to go. 

"You will perish on the way," he said sorrowfully. "But 
even if you reach and enter the islands, you will not be happy. 
That which is best for us is given to us, and after a long life, 
death is good." 



298 Educating by Story-Telling 

But Vasobiove shook his head and objected, "No, no I 
I go to the Everlasting Islands." And the next day he set 
out from Nagasaki in a boat. 

Straight southward he journeyed and eastward. Storms 
raged and tropic heat beat fiercely on his head, but he pressed 
onward, and at last, in spite of wave and tempest, reached 
the green shore of Horaisan. It was the land no mortal 
had ever entered, the Happy Islands of Everlasting Life. 

Vasobiove's cup of joy was full. There was no sorrow 
there, no birth or death, no tempest and black weather or 
flight of time — nothing but dancing, music, splendid men 
and beautiful women, with enchanted flowers of unfading 
beauty in the groves and gardens, and always iridescent 
reaches of the sea beyond. There were wresthng matches, 
such as were not dreamed of in Nagasaki, long days filled 
with feasting, and long nights of dance and song. 

Vasobiove smiled the smile of the contented. 

"At last I" he said. "It is good to know that I shall live 
forever." 

Two hundred years he spent in the eternal mirth of Ho- 
raisan, and then, somehow, he longed for other things. The 
music he had loved grew wearisome, the never ending dance 
became hateful to his eyes. 

He wanted to return to Nagasaki, but there was no way. 
The boat that had carried him to the islands had long since 
fallen into decay, and it was impossible to get another. He 
must stay forever and ever in the land of dance and song, 
and the thought became hideous. 

Then he heard a weird cry. Looking behind him, he saw 
a giant stork settling on the bank of a lake to catch some of 
the rainbow fish within. 

A happy thought came to him. No, he would not dwell 
eternally in Horaisan. He would go back to Nagasaki. 

Catching the bird, he tamed it, and one morning while the 
islanders reveled and the sea was as many colored as the en- 



stories for Telling 299 

chanted blossoms in the gardens, he flew away, borne by the 
giant stork back to the sweet land of Saikaido, back to the 
shining Gulf of Sinabara, and his native Nagasaki. He 
would live as his fathers had lived, he would die when his 
time came, and never again would he pine for a land where 
all was revelry and beauty and song. 

Ever since that time the Japanese have loved the stork. 
They picture it upon their royal banners and upon the walls 
of their houses, and give it the freedom of their gardens. 
Whenever a youth becomes dissatisfied and yearns for a 
land where deUghts are never ending, they tell him the story 
of the man who went to the Everlasting Islands, show a 
picture of the stork that CEu-ried him back to Nagasaki, and 
say, 

"Even as it was with Vasobiove, so would it be with you." 



WHY GRIZZLY BEAR GOES ON ALL FOURS 
A Shasta Legend. Adapted from Bancroft 

(Indian Folk Tale — Geography — Ethics) 

Ages ago, before there were any mountains or valleys or 
rivers flowing seawaid. Great Spirit lived up in the sky, 
higher than the most distant star. All about him were snow 
heaps and white cloud billows, so thick he could not see 
through them, and he wondered what lay beyond. 

"I will make a hole and see," he said. 

So, taking a sharp rock, he bored an opening through the 
cloud floor and looked below. A strange sight met his eyes. 
There lay the world, but a very difi'erent world from the one 
we know. It was flat hke a table, with no hiUs or vafleys, 
or rivers, or growing things, and Great Spirit said, "I will 
build a teepee there, and then I shall make it better." 

The snow heaps lying around him made him think of a 



300 Educating by Story-Telling 

good way of building a wigwam ; so he pushed some down 
through the floor window, working day and night through 
many, many moons, until he had the pyramid white men 
call Mount Shasta. He built a fire and lived in the teepee, 
and then he walked abroad. 

It was a fine land for a home, but lonely and too flat. He 
wanted mountains and vaUeys ; so he created them. Then 
he wanted living and growing things about him ; so he said, 
"I will make men and animals too." 

He dug holes in the ground with his fingers, some large, 
some smaU, and when he breathed into them, trees of many 
sizes and kinds rose out of the earth. Then he stripped 
leaves from the branches and scattered them about, and 
they became men. He caused snow from the mountain 
sides to melt and flow in streams, and now, instead of the 
flat, brown vastness, there were uplands and lowlands, green 
fields and snowy peaks, and rivers running seaward, and 
other leaves stripped from the branches and torn into bits 
became fishes that swim. 

" Now I shall make beasts of every kind," he said, and as 
he spoke he smote down a mighty tree. He broke it into 
pieces, some large, some smaU, which he turned into animals 
of various sizes and varying strength. Grizzly Bear he 
created from the heaviest part of the trunk, and the bear 
stood before him, on his hind legs, straight and powerful 
like a young hunter, stronger than any other creature of the 
earth. 

It pleased Great Spirit to have living creatures around 
him, and he did not go back to the cloud world, but stayed 
in the teepee. The Indians knew he was inside, because 
often they saw the smoke from his flaming coals curl far 
above the peaks. 

Many, many moons he dwelt there and grew so lonely 
that he sent for Little Daughter. She came and lived with 
him, made his moccasins and tended his fire, and was happy. 



stories for Telling 301 

One day there was a mighty storm. The wind raged 
fiercely, sending the smoke back through the smoke hole 
into Great Spirit's face. He did not hke that, and bade 
Little Daughter go up to command the wind to stop. 

She did as she was told, and put her head out through the 
hole to call to the wind. But never having beheld the world 
before, she grew very curious at the strange sights that met 
her eyes, and leaned out fair, far, to see all she could. 

Suddenly she fell, and the wind carried her to the land of 
the Grizzly Bear. Little Daughter did not want to stay there 
and begged to be taken back to the teepee of her father. 

"Let her stay here and work for me," Mother Grizzly 
growled, and Young Grizzly agreed, saying, "Yes, let her 
work." 

So they would neither go with her nor let her try to find 
the way herself. 

Great Spirit knew Little Daughter was in the land of the 
Grizzly Bear, and he went to take her home. When she told 
him how she had begged to go back, but was forced to stay 
and work, he was very angry. 

"I shall punish you," he said to the bears, "Never again 
shall you walk upright hke a man ; always you must go on 
all fours." 

Taking Little Daughter, he went back to the snow teepee, 
and they lived there for ages and ages, always keeping the 
fire burning, and always the Indians saw the smoke come out 
through the smoke hole. 

At last the white men came, and as Great Spirit did not 
like the palefaces, he went away and the fire died out. But 
the teepee they call Mount Shasta is still there, although 
smoke no longer curls above it, and Grizzly Bceu- still goes on 
all fours, never standing upright except when he is fighting. 



302 Educating by Story-Telling 

THE LUCK BOY OF TOY VALLEY 

{Geography — Ethics — Manual Training) 

In a chalet high up among the Austrian mountains, blue- 
eyed Franz was very unhappy because his mother and brother 
Johan were going to Vienna and he had to stay at home with 
his old grandfather. He bit his lips to keep back the tears 
as he watched the packing of the box that was to carry their 
clothing. Then his mother tried to comfort him. 

"Never mind, lad," she said. "I'll send you a present 
from Vienna, and we'll call it a 'luck gift' and hope it will 
bring good luck. If it does you'U be a luck boy." 

He smiled even if he did feel sad. He had often heard of 
luck children, for among the Tyrolean peasants there were 
many stories of those who had been led by fairies to have 
such wonderful good fortune that ever afterward they were 
spoken of as the elf-aided, or " Gliicks Kinder," and it was 
so delightful to think about being one of them that he forgot 
his sorrow. Of course it would be very fine to travel down 
to Vienna and go into the service of a rich noble there, as 
his mother and brother were to do, but it would be still 
better to be a "Gliicks Kind," and such things sometimes 
did happen. So he did not feel sad any more, but whistled 
and sang and helped with the packing. 

Early next morning the post chaise rattled up to the door, 
and Johan and the mother drove away. Franz watched 
them go down the winding white road, calling after them 
in sweet Tyrolean words of endearment until they were out 
of sight. Then he went back into the hut and began to 
sandpaper some blocks that his grandfather needed for his 
work. The old man was a maker of picture frames, aU 
carved and decorated with likenesses of mountain flowers, 
and these, when sent to Innsbruck and Vienna, brought the 
money that gave him his living. The figures were too fine 



stories for Telling ■ 303 

and difficult for Franz to carve, but he could lend a hand at 
fetching blocks and sandpapering. He worked with a vim, 
for Tyrolean boys think it a disgrace to shirk, but all the 
wliile his thoughts were on the luck gift. 

"I wonder what it will be?" he said to his grandfather. 
They took turns at guessing, until it was time to feed the 
goats and house the chickens for the night. 

A week later the man who had driven Johan and his 
mother away came by on his return from Vienna, and Franz 
fauly flew out to get his gift. 

"It is something very big," he caUed to the old frame 
maker as he took a bulging bag. "See, it is stuffed full!" 
And he expected to find something very wonderful. 

But when he opened it, he thought it wasn't wonderful 
at all. There was a blue velvet jacket, trimmed with gold 
brgiid and fastened with ghttering buttons, such as Ty- 
rolean boys wore in those days, and in one of the pockets 
he found a shining knife. 

"Well, of all things !" he exclaimed as he held them up for 
his grandfather to see. " It's a splendid jacket, and the knife 
is a beauty, but I don't see where the luck part comes in." 

But Hals Berner was old and wise, and a knowing smile 
played over his wrinkled face as he spoke. "It won't be 
the first time luck has hidden in a knife," he said, as he bent 
over his carving. 

Franz did not know what he meant. He had always had 
a knife, for being of a carver's family he was taught to 
whittle when he was a very little feUow, and he had become 
remarkably skillful for one of his years. But no wonderful 
good fortune had come to him, and he was very sure that 
although each of the presents was nice, neither would bring 
luck, and he sent that word to Johan. But the brother wrote 
back from the city, "It will surely turn out to be a luck gift, 
Franz. Just wait and see." And still the boy wondered. 

Winter came and icy winds blew down from the peaks, 



304 Educating by Story-Telling 

There was no word from Vienna now, for the valley was shut 
in by a glittering wall, and travel over the snow-drifted 
passes was impossible. There were other boys in the village, 
but each had his work indoors, and there was little time to 
play, so Franz had no chance for games. He helped his 
grandfather part of the day and sometimes whittled for his 
own amusement. It was a lonely hfe there in the hut, with 
just the old frame maker, who was often too busy to talk, so 
Franz was glad to do something to keep him busy. Now he 
made rings and tops and then just fantastic sticks or blocks. 

One day, as he whittled, his grandfather said, "Why 
don't you make an animal, Franz?" 

The boy looked up in surprise. "I don't think I can," 
he answered. 

"Not unless you try," came the reply. "But if you do 
that you may surprise yourself." 

Franz hated to have any one think he was afraid to make 
an attempt, so he exclaimed, "I wonder if I could make a 
sheep ? " 

"Begin and see," the old man advised. 

The boy went to work. At first it was discouraging. After 
many minutes of whittling there was little to suggest what he 
had in mind. But then, with an occasional turn of the knife 
by the frame maker, and now and then a bit of advice, the 
boy began to see that a sheep would grow out of the block, 
and when it did he felt like a hero who has won a battle. 

"It wasn't a bit hard, was it, lad.^" Hals Berner asked 
when it was finished. 

And Franz agreed that it was not. 

That was the beginning, and every day thereafter Franz 
worked at his whittling, and animal after animal grew under 
his knife. He was so busy he did not have time to be lonely, 
and had quite forgotten how sad he had felt over having to 
stay at home. It was such fun to see the figures come out 
of the wood and feel that he had made them. Of course 



Stories for Telling 305 

they were crude, and not half so handsome as those his 
grandfather could have made ; but any one could teU what 
they were, and that was worth a great deal. 

By spring he had a whole menagerie, and when his mother 
came home she found he had been a busy boy, and a happy 
one as well. 

"All made with the luck knife," Johan said as he looked 
over the work. 

"So grandfather says," Franz answered. "It's a splendid 
knife, but I don't see yet where the luck comes in." 

And again the knowing smile went over the old man's face. 

One day soon afterward his mother had word from the 
man who had been her employer in Vienna that his little son 
was not well, and he was sending him to regain his health in 
the mountain air. A week later the child arrived with his 
nurse, and the first thing that attracted his attention was 
Franz's menagerie. 

"Oh! oh!"" he exclaimed, "dogs, cats, sheep, goats, 
lions, elephants, and all made of wood ! I want them." 

"He means that he wants to buy them," his nurse ex- 
plained. "Will you sell them, Franz ? " 

For a minute the boy hesitated. That menagerie had 
meant many months of whittling, and he loved every animal 
in it, and if Johan hadn't interrupted, probably he would 
have refused. 

"Why, Franz," the brother exclaimed, "it begins to look 
like a luck knife after all." 

That put a thought into his mind that caused him to 
answer, "Yes, take them. I can make some more." 

So, when the child went back to Vienna he took a wooden 
menagerie from the Tyrolean mountains. Other Viennese 
children, seeing it, wanted to possess one, and orders began 
to pour in to Franz, far more than he could fill. Then other 
villagers took up the work, until all over the valley people 
were making animals and toys. 



306 Educating by Story-Telling 

The work grew to be a big industry, and toys from the 
Grodner Thai were sent all over Germany, and even to the 
lands beyond. One generation after another went on with 
the work, and although it is two hundred years since Franz 
began it, the craft continues there to this day. At Christmas 
time shops in every land are filled with toys from the Ty- 
rolean mountains, and although they do not know the story, 
thousands of children have been happier because of a peasant 
boy's whittling. 

So out of the bag sent back from Vienna there came in 
truth a luck gift, and it wasn't the fine jacket either, but the 
knife with which Franz whittled his first sheep. The boy 
had found out that luck doesn't mean something sent by 
fairies, but the doing a thing so well that it brings a rich 
reward, and although he hved to be a very old man, he 
never got over being grateful that his mother made him 
stay behind when she and Johan went to the city. 

The little valley among the Austrian Alps is stiU called 
Grodner Thai on the maps, but because of the animals and 
toys that have come out of it, it is almost as well known by 
another name. If you are good guessers you can surely tell 
what it is, especially if you know that the peasants still speak 
of the lad who made the first menagerie there as the Luck 
Boy of Toy Valley. 



THE EMPEROR'S VISION ^ 

Adapted from the Swedish of Selma Lagerlof 

(Medieval Legend — Ethics) 

When Augustus was Emperor of Rome and Herod was 
King of Jerusalem, a great and holy night sank down over 
the earth. It was the darkest night that any one had seen, 

^From Lagerlof 's Christ Legends. Copyright, 1908, by Henry 
Holt & Co. 



stories for Telling 307 

and one could not find the way on the most famihar road. 
How could it be otherwise, since all the stars stayed at home 
in their houses and the fair moon hid her face ? 

The silence was as profound as the darkness. The rivers 
stood still in their courses, the wind did not stir, and even the 
aspen leaves had ceased to quiver. Everything was as 
motionless as if turned to stone, and the grass was afraid to 
grow, lest it disturb the holy night. 

There was no cruelty or wickedness. Wild beasts did not 
seek their prey, but lay in the forest depths and wondered ; 
serpents did not sting or dogs bark, and no false key could 
have picked a lock, no knife could have drawn a drop of 
blood. 

In Rome, the mighty city, a group of people came from 
the Emperor's palace at the Palatine and took the path across 
the Forum which led to the Capitol. During the day the 
senators had asked the Emperor if he had any objection to 
their erecting a temple in his honor on Rome's sacred hiU, 
but he had given no answer. He did not know if it would be 
agreeable to the gods for him to own a temple next to theirs, 
and he wanted to ascertain their will in the matter by offer- 
ing a sacrifice. Therefore he and his trusted friends were 
on their way to the Capitol. 

Augustus let them cEu^ry his htter, for he was old and the 
stairs leading to the Capitol were long. He held in his hands 
the cage of doves for the sacrifice. No priests or soldiers 
accompanied him, only his nearest friends. Torch bearers 
walked in front of him to light the ways through the black 
darkness, and behind him followed slaves who carried the 
tripod, knives, and charcoal for the sacred fire. He chatted 
gayly with his followers, and all were so interested in the 
conversation that they did not notice the stillness over the 
earth. Only when they reached the highest point on Capitol 
Hill did they reahze that something unusual was taking place. 

There they saw a most remarkable thing. An old woman, 



308 Educating by Story-Telling 

so bent and twisted that at first they thought it must be a 
distorted olive tree, was standing on the very edge of the 
cliff, and they knew her to be the sibyl who had lived as 
many years as the sand grains by the sea. 

"Why does she come from her cave tonight?" they 
whispered. "What does she foretell for the Emperor and 
the Empire?" 

She stood there as if she had gone up on the hillside that 
she might see what was happening far away, and the night 
was so daik, so dark ! 

Then Augustus and his retinue remarked how profound 
was the stillness. They could not hear even Tiber's hollow 
murmur, and they feared some disaster was impending. 
But no one cared to show that he was afraid. They told 
Augustus it was a good omen, and counseled him to hurry 
with the sacrifice. 

The sibyl seemed not to notice the Emperor's train mov- 
ing up to the Capitol. In fact, she did not see them. She 
was in a distant land making her way over something higher 
than grass tufts. She was walking among great flocks of 
sleeping sheep. 

Then she saw a shepherd's fire. It burned in the middle 
of the field, and she groped her way to it. The shepherds 
lay asleep in its glow, and beside them were the long, spiked 
sticks with which they defended their flocks from wild 
beasts. Jackals with gUttering eyes and bushy tails stole 
up toward the blaze, but the men did not hurl the sticks 
at them. The dogs continued to sleep, the sheep did not 
flee, and the beasts of prey lay down to rest beside human 
beings. 

Only this the sibyl saw. She did not know that a sacri- 
ficial fire was being kindled behind her. She did not see 
the Roman Emperor take a dove from the cage to use as an 
offering. She was in the far hills of Galilee, among slumber- 
ing shepherds and sheep. 



stories for Telling 309 

Then, wonderful sight, a company of angels singing glori- 
ously flew back and forth above the wide plain. They 
moved in long, swaying lines like migratory birds. Some 
held lutes in their hands, some zithers and harps, and their 
songs rang out as merry as child laughter, as carefree as 
lark trills. The shepherds wakened, marvehng at what they 
heard and saw, then rose up to go to the mountain city to 
tell of the miracle. 

Behind the sibyl, on the summit of Capitol Hill, still 
stood the train of Augustus. But he did not make the 
sacrifice. Although he exerted his full strength to hold 
the dove's frail body, it flung itself free £md disappeared 
into the night. 

And the shepherds, what of them ? 

They groped their way forward on a narrow, winding path. 
Suddenly, in the hght up there on the mountain, a great 
heavenly body kindled, and the city beneath it ghttered 
hke silver in the stailight. 

All the fluttering angel throngs hastened thither, shouting 
for joy, and the shepherds hurried so that they almost ran. 
Upon reaching the city, they found the angels had assembled 
over a stable near the gate. It was a wretched structure 
with a roof of straw, and a naked cliff for a waU. But over 
it hung the stai", and thither flocked more and more angels. 
Some seated themselves on the roof or alighted on the steep 
mountain wall back of the house, others poised themselves 
in air on outspread pinions, while high up, high up, the sky 
was iUuminated by creatures with wings as white as pearl. 

The instant the star kindled over the mountain city all 
nature awoke. Trees swayed, the Tiber began to murmur, 
stars twinkled, and the moon stood out of the sky and lighted 
the world. Out of the clouds a dove circled down and 
alighted on the shoulders of Augustus. 

The Emperor was proud and happy, and his friends and 
slaves fell at his feet. 



310 Educating by Story-Telling 

"Hail, Caesar 1" they cried. "Thou art the god who shall 
be worshiped on Capitol Hill !" 

This cry of homage was so loud that the sibyl heard it 
and roused from her vision. She turned from her place at 
the edge of the cUff and came down among the people, so 
twisted, so shriveled, so terrifying in her tangled hair and 
marks of age, that they fell back in awe. With one hand 
she clutched the hand of the Emperor, with the other she 
pointed toward the east. 

"Look!" she commanded. 

The vaulted heavens opened before his eyes, and his 
glance traveled slowly to the distant Orient. He saw a 
lowly stable behind a steep rock wall and shepherds kneel- 
ing in an open doorway. He saw a young mother with a 
child upon her knees, resting on a bundle of straw. 

The sibyl's big, knotty fingers pointed toward the Babe. 

" Hail, Caisar 1 " she cried in a burst of scornful laughter. 
"There is the God who shall be worshiped on Capitol Hill 1" 

Augustus shrank back from her as from a maniac. But 
upon the sibyl fell the mighty spirit of prophecy. Her dim 
eyes began to burn, her hands were stretched toward heaven, 
her voice rang out with such resonance and power that it 
must have been heard throughout the world. And she 
uttered words which she seemed to be reading among the 
stars. 

"Upon Capitol Hill shall the Redeemer of the world be 
worshiped — Christ, but not frail mortals." 

When she had said this she strode past the terror-stricken 
men and disappeared down the mountain. 

On the following day Augustus forbade the people to raise 
a temple to him on Capitol Hill. In place of it he built a 
sanctuary to the new-born God-Child, and called it Heaven's 
Altar — Ara CoeU. 



stories for Telling 311 

THE SHEPHERD WHO TURNED RACK 
Retold from a Syrian Legend 

(Ethics) 

This is a story they tell in Palestine when the Christmas 
stars shine out and Syrian children sit, cross-legged and big- 
eyed, in front of the old grandfather, listening to his tales 
by the light of the chcircoal fire, while the moon flings its 
veil across the jagged Hebron Hills and the far, high peaks 
out Moab way are white as wool. 

On the wonderful night when the star in the east pro- 
claimed glad tidings to the Magi, and these three wise ones 
started away from their pleasant homes on a long and peril- 
ous journey, marvelous things are said to have happened in 
every quaiter of the earth. Away in imperial Rome, the 
Emperor Augustus, straight and proud in his htter, was 
borne up the long stairway leading to Capitol Hill to invoke 
his gods on the spot where the people were to erect a temple 
to him. Rut suddenly the darkness broke away and he 
beheld a manger in a distant land and a Rabe wrapped in 
swaddling clothes, and as the voices of his subjects shouted, 
" Hail, Caesar, thou art the god who shall be worshiped on 
Capitol Hill ! " instead of feeling great and exalted hke a 
sovereign he felt very small and humble, for he knew that 
One just born was mightier than Caesar, and would ride not 
only Rome, but all the earth. 

And on that same night, where the mountains break 
southward from Rethlehem to form the high plateau of Ret 
SahUr, there were shepherds guarding their white-fleeced 
charges — six in all, five of whom slept by the gate of the 
sheepfold while one walked up and down, starting when- 
ever he heard a stirring among the flocks and going in the 
direction of the sound to make sure that aU was well. 

Sometimes he added wood to the fire, for the night was 



312 Educating by Story-Telling 

cold and a wind from the white peaks eastward brought 
numbness to his hands, and sometimes he stood and looked 
over the scene he knew so well — the pools of Solomon, 
shimmering darkly under the moon, and the broad vales 
of Boaz, bare and lifeless now, but yellow with ripened 
grain and gay with reapers' songs in harvest time. As a 
child he had played there with his brothers, as a boy he had 
roamed up and down the ravines, and now, alone in the 
darkness, it gladdened him to live again those days in memory. 

Midnight drew near, yet he had no desire to sleep. The 
world was very silent, very still, for the wind had died away, 
and the Ilwa, in its rocky bed below, seemed to rest instead 
of surging Jordan-ward. Into the hoot of the owls came a 
note of unwonted tenderness, and even the cries of the 
jackals, that always made the night watch hideous and sent 
terror to the hearts of the herders, softened to a sound like 
a song. The man felt the calm and it soothed him, and 
although he had followed the flocks all day long and the 
hills were steep and jagged, he knew no weariness, but a 
strange sense of peace and delight, and as he looked at his 
companions wrapped in their rough skin coats and dream- 
ing beside the embers, he wondered if they felt in sleep a 
sensation as exquisite as the one he experienced awaking. 

"How bright the heavens are tonight !" he thought as he 
looked up to where a golden haze began to gleam around 
the crescent of the moon. Billions of stars glittered in the 
purple spaces, and directly over the center of the fold was 
a cluster large and brilliant that he had not seen before. 

It grew warmer, too, and instead of the sting of winter 
that had kept the men close by the fire after darkness fell, 
a balm came into the air, a softness like that of May. Never 
had he dreamed there could be such a winter night, and 
almost he felt tempted to rouse his companions that they 
too might enjoy it. 

But suddenly he stiffened and stood watching, cold with 



Stories for Telling 313 

fear. A glory came, and across the sky, which flamed as 
if on fire, floated a white-winged heavenly host singing the 
glad tidings of the Messiah come. The flocks started up 
and ran wildly about the fold. The sleeping shepherds 
wakened and crouched on the ground, half dazed with fear. 

The bright ones flew about the heavens. They moved 
in shining columns down from the heights and fluttered 
above the fold, whiter than the sheep, then ghded across to 
the rugged cliffs, and sat there as if on couches of down. And 
ever as they marched or floated or poised on glittering pin- 
ions ready for another flight, they blended their voices in a 
triumphal chorus as if all the hosts of heaven had descended 
to make melody among the Judean hiUs. 

"What is it?" one of the shepherds asked in a voice that 
shook. 

Then, like an answering message, came a jubilant anthem, 
"Fear not, for unto you is born this day in the city of David, 
a Saviour which is Christ the Lord." 

As if a soothing hand had touched their fleeces, the sheep 
settled to rest again ; the fear left the hearts of the shepherds, 
and in a radiance which dimmed and paled as they went, 
the shining ones floated upw£U"d out of sight, singing, "Glory 
to God in the Highest, Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men." 

For several minutes the keepers of the flocks stood silent, 
too bewildered either to think or to speak. Then, by the 
peace among the sheep and the perfect calm of the night, 
they realized a marvelous thing had happened, and one of 
the herders hfted his voice. 

"Didst hear?" he spoke in tones of reverence. "They 
say the Christ is born." 

"Aye," a companion answered, "in the city of David, 
which is Bethlehem. Let us go and seek him." And his 
comrades, speaking agreement, seiid they would journey 
there together. 

Now, when subjects go into the presence of a loved sov- 



314 Educating by Story-Telling 

ereign, they bear with them tokens of loyalty and afTection. 
Those who are rich give priceless gifts, and those who are 
poor offer the best out of their scanty possessions and the 
fullness of their hearts. And so these herders of Bet Sahur, 
having nothing but their flocks, each chose the lamb he 
prized most, and cradling it tenderly in his firm, warm aims, 
left the sheepfold and started for the town. 

Down over the cliffs they hurried, along perilous slopes 
and across chasms that seemed like great black mouths 
agape ; yet they did not fear, for a light from above showed 
the path as plain as noontide and there was no danger of 
faUing. From one rock to another they proceeded, from 
ledge to ledge they made their way, and soon were well down 
into the ravine, from the bottom of which the road led to 
the town. Directly above, so close that had they looked 
up they could have counted some of them, the sheep lay 
white and shining under the stars ; but the thoughts of the 
shepherds were on Bethlehem, which, straight ahead, stiU 
showed a few flickering tapers, £uid not on the flocks behind. 

Ben Ezra, he who had stood on the night watch, was the 
most stalwart of the six, and he it was who led the descent 
to the valley. 

"Ah," he exclaimed when at last their feet struck the white 
firmness of the road, "from here on the way is smooth and 
easy. Let us hasten, brethren, and soon we shall be there." 

And as he spoke he smoothed the fleece of the warm, 
white bundle he carried, which bleated softly at his caress. 

Just then was heard the cry of a lamb. 

The shepherds stopped and listened, for having spent 
their lives among the flocks, they knew the helplessness of 
the sheep, and although rugged, fierce-looking men, their 
hearts were tender toward the weak and appealing. The 
bleat of a ram or ewe never failed to call them from their 
meals by day or their rest by night ; and now other thoughts 
left their minds, and they remembered only their charges. 



stories for Telling 315 

alone on the hill. Then, thinking of the glory in the sky 
and the word of the heavenly host that the Christ was born 
in Bethlehem, one of them said, "Come. Methinks all is 
well. Did we not feel on the hills that God would take care 
of the sheep ? Let us on to Bethlehem and seek the King." 

But another of the number, he who stood sentinel while 
his comrades slept, shook his head and demurred. 

"Nay," he said. "Take my lamb and say 'tis the gift 
of Ben Ezra, but I must go back. It is my night on the 
watch, and a good shepherd is not deaf to the cry of a sheep." 

He gave his tiny white burden into the keeping of one of 
his companions and turning, hurried back to the chfifs, 
while the others went ahead to Bethlehem. He knew it 
would take much longer to make the climb than it had taken 
for the descent, and a fear seized him that perhaps jackals 
had broken upon the flock and he might reach the fold too 
late to save the sheep. But as he moved forward the mount- 
ing of the first clifi" seemed no task at all. Hands invisible 
seemed to lift him up the mountain way, and he reached the 
sheepfold easily and quickly. 

A great relief came. The flocks lay silent, stirring only 
when a lamb or ewe moved a white leg and turned as it 
slept, but there was no sign or sound of danger, not even 
the howl of a jackal away on the mountain side or the mov- 
ing shadow of a panther creeping stealthily upon the fold. 
Then he knew that in truth God was watching over the sheep, 
and that the lamb had probably cried out in wonder, even 
as he and his brethren might have done. 

Secure in the thought that the flock was safe, he started 
down the mountain toward Bethlehem, musing upon the 
strange things that had come to pass that night. His com- 
rades were far ahead, and he knew he could not overtake 
them. Perhaps already they had reached the town and 
found the place of the Child, while he yet had a long way to 
go. But his feet sped over the spaces and he swung lightly 



316 Educating by Story-Telling 

along, the shaggy skin of his shepherd's cloak flapping as 
he went. He was not sorry he had gone back, even though 
it meant he must journey alone, for there was a peace in his 
heart that could not have been there had he gone ahead 
hearing the cry of a lamb. 

At last he reached Bethlehem and asked one of the soldiers 
who guarded the gate, "Where is it that the Christ is born ? " 

"The Christ?" the man repeated like one dazed. "He 
is not in Bethlehem. Better get you back to the hills, which 
is the place of shepherds." 

Ben Ezra stood firm. 

"He must be here," he insisted, "for so sang the angels 
at Bet Sahur, saying, 'In the city of David,' which is Beth- 
lehem." 

Whereupon some of the guardsmen smiled and pointed to 
their heads, and some laughed jeeringly. 

There was one, however, a tall, gentle-faced archer, who 
smiled and spoke kindly, "They say a man child has come 
to the stable beyond the khan, where Joseph ben David the 
Nazarene and his wife have taken shelter. You might try 
there." 

The shepherd nodded and thanked him, his dark eyes 
moistily tender and in his face a hght that silenced the 
mockers. 

" Thither will I go," he exclaimed, and hurried on his way, 
bowing his head reverently as he came in sight of the place. 

Now it happened when Ben Ezra reached the stable 
where Joseph ben David was abiding because of the mul- 
titude in the khan, that he found the Cliild lying in a manger, 
and the other shepherds who had gone before knelt beside 
Him, looking into His gentle eyes and marveling. Around 
them on the ground, softly bleating as if they too under- 
stood the marvel and rejoiced in it, were the lambs the men 
had brought as offerings to the Babe; and some of the 
townsfolk too were there, murmuring in awed tones and 



stories for Telling 317 

looking on the scene in wide-eyed wonder. No one noticed 
the herder who entered late, or saw him fall on his knees 
beside the manger. But as his sturdy head drooped low, 
the Child hfted His tiny hand as if in blessing and smiled 
down on Ben Ezra's upturned face; and then the keepers 
of the sheep knew that thus God had chosen to reward him 
who had not been deaf to the cry of a lamb. 

For many a year after that time, the Syiian herders say, 
Ben Ezra tended his sheep on the hills. Through summer 
and winter he abode in the pasture place, his only respite 
from toil being the rare visits he made to the village where 
his wife and wee ones dwelt ; but he never was weaiy, and 
his flocks never went astray. To his children and his chil- 
dren's children he told the story of how he went back to the 
hills that night and how he was rewarded, bidding them to 
be ever mindful of the fact that he who is tender to the sheep 
serves weU a higher Master. And as years rolled into dec- 
ades and centuries passed away, all the herders of Judea 
came to know the story and to shape their Uves by it, so that 
to this day the Syrian shepherds have remained men of tender 
heart and simple faith. And when strangers visit the land 
and wonder at the gentleness of the keepers of the flocks, 
some old grandfather or brown-eyed boy is ever ready to 
explain what it is that has kept them sweet and serene, and 
teUs the story of Ben Ezra, the shepherd who on the won- 
derful night went back to the hiUs, and so came late to 
Bethlehem. 

THE PET RAVEN 

A Legend of the Rhine 

(Geography — Ethics) 

One autumn morning a thousand years ago, a boy and a 
girl stood in a forest path beside the Rhine. His great eyes, 
brown and full of feeling, looked wistfully into the face of the 



318 Educating by Story-Telling 

golden-haired maiden, while his clumsy hands stroked 
tenderly the' glossy feathers of a young raven. 

"Father says it is a poor gift to offer a princess," he said 
as he held the bird toward her, "but I have nothing else. 
Will you please take it?" 

Blue-eyed Willeswind smiled. She was the petted child 
of a baron and accustomed to receiving gifts, but something 
about this boy's earnestness touched her in an unusual way. 
He was only a forester's son, with but little to break the 
monotony of his life of toil, and it seemed wonderful that he 
should be willing to part with his only treasure. 

"I cannot take your only pet, Rupert," she said kindly, 
"but it is good of you to offer it." 

Disappointment crept into the boy's dark eyes. 

" Oh, please," he pleaded. " I want you to have it, because 
you bound up my foot with heahng herbs when I tore it on 
the brambles in the wood. Please take it." 

The girl answered with a smile that made her face very 
lovely, "Of course I shall take it, and I will keep it always 
because you gave it to me." Reaching over, she took the 
fluttering creature from the big dark hands, and stroked it 
gently as it quivered at the strange touch. Then she made 
her way back to the castle over a carpet of fallen leaves, while 
Rupert the forester's son hurried to the hunting lodge, happy 
in the thought that he had made a gift to her who had been 
kind to him. 

"She will keep it and feed it and be glad I did not forget,'* 
he thought as he fed the falcons that evening, while up in the 
castle court Willeswind was busy with her pet. 

"See how glossy its feathers are !" she said as her brother 
Othmar came near. "Rupert gave it to me, and I promised 
to keep it always." 

The young squire laughed. "A raven is sure to be a 
bother," he said. "Better let it fly into the woods." 

Willeswind shook her golden head. "No, no," she ex- 



stories for Telling 319 

claimed, *' I like it. Your horses and hounds and falcons are 
far more bother than one raven, yet you would not think of 
being without them." 

Othmar mounted his horse and rode out to his archery 
practice, thinking how soon his sister would tire of the bird. 
But she did not tire of it. It was different from any pet she 
had ever owned, and she cared for it and trained it. 

Seven years passed, and the brother had grown from a 
squire to a knight, and upon the death of his father the baron, 
became lord of the castle. Willeswind too had changed from 
the slender maid who stood under the November trees with 
Rupert the forester's son. She was now the stateliest of all 
the great ladies on the Rhine. But her hair was still the 
color of sun-kissed straw, and her eyes the same sympathetic 
ones, as blue as wood gentians. Rupert was tall and stal- 
wart, one of the sturdiest vassals of Castle Stolzenfels, and 
although Willeswind seldom saw him, she remembered him 
kindly because he had given her the pet raven which she 
still kept and loved. She spent many hours teaching it 
tricks, and the bird was so clever that it learned rapidly. 
Sometimes it flew into the forest and came back with flowers 
and leaves for its mistress. Sometimes it winged its way 
across the river and brought sprigs of the sweet wild berries 
growing there. 

Everything was bright about the castle, for the young 
master and mistress were kind to those who served them, 
and there were no happier vassals along the Rhine than theirs. 

One day in springtime, when the elder flowers were creami- 
est and swallows were teaching their nestlings to fly, a 
stranger came riding along the river. Past the postern gate 
his armored steed dashed, and straight he sat in his saddle 
as he called to Lord Othmar. 

" I bring a chaUenge from the great lord who is my master," 
he spoke defiantly as the young knight moved forth to meet 
him. With flashing eyes he tossed his gauntlet to the ground. 



320 Educating by Story-Telling 

A murmur went among the vassals who stood by. To 
throw down a gauntlet was to invite war, and all waited for 
the master to act. But the silence was only for a minute. 
Then came a shouting and clashing of arms, for with defiance 
in his face Othmar picked up the glove and flung it back at 
the rider. That meant war, which in those days was believed 
to be a glorious thing. 

The strange knight rode away along the Rhine shore as 
rapidly as he had come, while in the great courtyard of Castle 
Stolzenfels began the marshahng of vassals and preparation 
for fighting. The women burnished arms and gave all the 
aid they could, while the Lady Willeswind moved here and 
there, making suggestions where they were needed. All 
night long the sound of clanging armor was heard, and the 
next morning, when the men of Castle Stolzenfels went out 
of the castle gate to meet the enemy, Rupert the forester's 
son marched at the head of the vassals. 

Willeswind stood at the tower window and watched them 
go along the winding river road, thinking sadly of the days 
and nights of danger into which they went. Perhaps they 
would not return. Perhaps, too, some robber band might 
pillage the castle while they were away, for all the able- 
bodied men had gone to battle, and in those days many 
brigand hordes ravaged the Rhine valley, which the handful 
of old men at Stolzenfels would not be able to hold back. 
But she was brave, and although danger tlireatened, she 
faced it as a baron's daughter should. 

Autumn came, with swallows and martins flying south- 
ward, and still the battling raged away in the northland, 
sometimes with victory for Othmar and his men, sometimes 
with defeat, but always with dread for the anxious hearts of 
those who waited at home. 

One night the wind raged like a mad thing, whipping the 
Rhine into foam. As the castle mistress sat in the great 
hall among the women, a servant entered, saying that a 



Stories for Telling S21 

pilgrim stood at the outer gate, begging shelter from the night 
and storm, 

"He is white and bent," the man explained. "Shall I 
let him come inside ? " 

Willeswind's heart was big and tender. "Yes, let him 
come," she said. 

A moment later he followed the servant through the hall 
to the sleeping quarters, a hobbling figure leaning heavily 
on a staff. Willeswind pitied him as he went by, but 
thought his face seemed hard and cruel. 

A few days later she sat alone with her maid, in that same 
great hall, looking happier than she had looked for many 
weeks. "A courier came by with word from Othmar," she 
said. "He sends greetings, says the worst of the fighting is 
over, and soon they will be home. I feel quite safe again.'* 

Suddenly the door was violently thrust open. The maid 
screamed and Willeswind turned pale, for a man in heavy 
armor strode into the room. She knew he was one of the 
dreaded robber barons who terrorized the Rhine valley, and 
knew too, as she looked into his savage face, that it was the 
same man who, in the guise of a pilgrim, had sought shelter 
there a few nights before. 

"I have come to take you with me," he said in a voice of 
thunder, "for I mean you to be my wife." 

Willeswind shuddered. She knew how wicked and cruel he 
was, and that it was her great wealth he craved, for Stolzen- 
fels was one of the richest estates on the river. "That can 
never be, sir," she answered haughtily. "So go back whence 
you came." 

He looked at her with an evil smile, "You give me a 
blithe refusal now," he exclaimed, "but in three days I will 
come again and it will be sad for you if I get not a different 
answer." 

The robber chief strode out, and Willeswind and the 
trembling maid looked at each other in terror. 



322 Educating by Story-Telling 

"My lady," the woman spoke, as soon as the outer gate 
clanged and they knew the man was beyond hearing, "you 
must get away from here." 

"Yes," answered the mistress, "I must leave Stolzenfels 
and seek refuge at some other castle." 

So that same afternoon a httle cavsJcade wended its way 
through the woods, over the carpet of leaves that late autumn 
had whipped from the trees. It was Willeswind and her 
attendants, bound for the home of another baron, where she 
would be protected until the return of Othmar and his men. 
Beside her rode Hulda the maid, and on her shoulder sat the 
pet raven. 

But they did not go far. Suddenly from behind some 
thickly growing brush a band of horsemen appeared. One 
rider, taller and heavier than the others, called out orders to 
his men. 

"To my castle !" he shouted. 

Willeswind knew well they were the tones of the robber 
baron, and that she was now a prisoner in his power. 

Sad indeed was her heart as the men turned her horse's 
head away from her road to safety, and tears came into her 
blue eyes as she caught a glimpse of the Stolzenfels towers. 

"Oh, my home," she murmured, "when shall I see you 
again ? " 

On they went through the forest, along that part of the 
river whose gray cUfTs she had known since childhood, then 
into unfamiliar country as they neared the castle of the 
robber chief. 

"If only they will let us stay together," she murmured to 
Hulda as they drew rein at the gate. 

They rode in through the courtyard, and then, dismount- 
ing, the baron led the two women up a winding stairway to 
the tower. 

"Here you may stay," he said savagely, "and decide what 
to do." 



stories for Telling 323 

Then, striding out, he bolted the heavy door. 

They looked around. The windows were covered with 
an iron grating, and there was no possible way of escape. 

"We cannot get away," said Hulda, "so let us make the 
best of it and find something to eat, for I am hungry." 

But there was no food about the place, and they reahzed 
then that he meant to starve Willeswind into obeying him. 

But suddenly a bright thought came to her, and she smiled. 

"He cannot do it, though, for I have my raven." And 
stroking its glossy wings she said, "Berries, pet, berries." 

Her hours of training had been well spent. For as if it 
understood, the bird spread its shining wings and flew out 
between the grating. After a while it returned with a sprig 
of crimson berries, the fragrant, juicy Rhine buds, and laid 
them in its mistress' lap. 

Many trips it made during the days that followed, and the 
woodland fruit kept the women from starvation, for it con- 
tained both nourishment and water. 

So, instead of growing weak and wan, they kept their 
strength, and the baron could not understand how, with 
neither food nor water, Willeswind remained strong and well, 
and as defiant as ever. But to Willeswind and Hulda it was 
no mystery, and they were full of gratitude to the raven. 

One morning Hulda stood by the window, looking out over 
the woods at the sunUght on the river. Suddenly she gave 
an excited cry. "Some horsemen are riding up the Rhine 
road!" she exclaimed. "They are coming this way." 

Willeswind flew to the casement and watched as they drew 
near. Straight along the forest path they advanced, so close 
that the watchers could see their faces. 

"Oh!" cried the lady of Stolzenfels. "It is Othmar and 
his men. The war is over and they are coming home." 

She called loudly, waving her handkerchief between the 
grating, and Othmar saw and heard. "We are up here, 
prisoners in the tower!" she shouted, as he galloped nearer. 



324 Educating by Story-Telling 

And a minute later the Stolzenfels men were battering at the 
castle gate. 

"For your mistress, comrades!" called Rupert the 
forester's son, as he led the charge. 

The robber baron knew the Stolzenfels force was too strong 
for him to hold out against, for with right on their side they 
had even greater strength. He surrendered, and the captives 
were freed. 

The Stolzenfels towers never looked as fair to their owners, 
as when on the return they beheld them through the trees. 
It was a joyful homecoming to both lord and vassal, and to 
the raven, for he flew in and out of its windows as if overcome 
with gladness. Othmar watched its joyous flight with a 
smile. 

"We wiU always keep the bird," he said, "for it saved you 
from the baron's power." 

And they did keep it until it died. Then, in memory of 
its service, they placed its stone image on the castle gate and 
carved its hkeness on the Stolzenfels shield. 

Centuries passed. The robber bands that had been the 
terror of the Rhine valley became a part of the past, and 
Castle Stolzenfels feU into decay, for hundreds of years being 
one of the noblest ruins on the river. Then the German 
emperor restored it. He rebuilt the crumbhng towers and 
bastions where bats made their nests, furnished it after the 
fashion of long ago, and today it is a favorite summer home 
of the imperial family. And stiU on the outer gate a stone 
raven stands, and to all who know the Rhine stories it speaks 
eloquently of that olden time when knights were bold, and 
of a gratitude offering made by the forester's son to the 
daughter of the castle. 



stories for Telling 325 

JUSSIEU AND THE HELIOTROPE 

(Science — Nature Study) 

In the year of Our Lord 1735, Joseph de Jiissieu, the 
famous botanist, came into the presence of Louis the Fif- 
teenth and besought him to give his royal sanction to a 
mission that was considered very wonderful in those days. 

" I would go to South America to study the plant life there," 
he said, "and mayhap I may discover something that will 
bring glory to France." 

The king looked with favor upon the venture, and a little 
later the botanist and his attendants sailed out of the port of 
Havre, toward the distant land of the Andes. 

Many months they were on the way, now tossing on the 
high seas at the mercy of wind and wave, now threading a 
perilous path through the selvas. At last they ascended the 
snow-capped Cordilleras, examining every tree and plant they 
found. 

"We wiU take back seeds of every rare specimen," Jussieu 
said, "and great will be the rejoicing in France." 

One day, as the botanist and his men made their way from 
a deep ravine up a sunny slope, they smelled something won- 
derfully fragrant. 

" Such a powerful odor must come from a gigantic, gorgeous 
flower," the naturalist said. And they searched eagerly, 
each man anxious to discover the prize. But the only gor- 
geous flower they found was a clump of flaming peonies, 
which, although regally beautiful, were devoid of fragrance. 

Then one of the men stumbled upon a plant bearing 
clusters of tiny purple blossoms. The odor was very heavy 
around it, and he knew he had found the perfume giver. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed in disappointment, "it is not half so 
stately as our fleur-de-lis." 

Jussieu came and examined it with great interest, and 



S26 Educating by Story-Telling 

although it was a small, unpretentious flower, thought it a 
precious find. He noticed that the most perfect blossoms 
were on the sunny side of the plant, and that they seemed to 
reach the sun. He named it "hehotrope," from Greek words 
meaning "to turn toward the sun," and when he returned to 
France took with him some of the seeds, which were planted 
in the royal garden. 

The princesses, who were always looking for something 
novel, became greatly excited about the purple blossoms 
from the Andes. They called it the flower of love, and no 
bouquet was deemed fit to ofl'er a court lady that did not con- 
tain at least a sprig of it. Being greatly in demand, it was 
very costly. People speculated in it, and for a time fortunes 
were won and lost, as during the tuhp craze in HoUand. 

Then, after a while, when all the florists grew quantities 
of hehotrope, it became so common that it went out of favor 
as the court flower. But it was just as popular as ever, be- 
cause it had lost none of its grace and fragrance. It grew 
in the gardens of the people, and there was no peasant too 
poor to own a plant. 

So the dainty hehotrope that is still the favorite of the 
gardens is a traveled and storied flower. It grew on the slope 
of the Andes. It crossed the broad seas and was planted in 
a royal garden. It gladdened the peasants and townsfolk 
of Lorraine and Brittany and Provence, and still it scatters 
its fragrance and reaches out its petals toward the sun. 



THE FALL OF LONDON BRIDGE 

(History) 

Almost everybody, whether he be ten or seventy-five, has 
played the good old game of London Bridge, but not every- 
body knows that once upon a time the bridge really did fall 
down. 



Stories for Telling 327 

It was nine hundred years ago — before William the Con- 
queror was born, and the United States had not even been 
thought of. Up in the cold, white northland lived a race 
of fearless vikings, and down in pleasant England reigned 
a weak, unable king. His name was Ethelred, and because 
he was always behind time with his plans and his work, 
people called him the Unready, and in the day in which 
he lived it was a very serious thing for a king to be 
unready. 

Ever since the Danes had discovered what a fair land 
England was, they had wanted to take it. They came with 
their armies in King Alfred's time. They returned again 
during the reign of his sons, and when young Ethelred as- 
cended the throne and word went forth of how unable and 
unready he was, their boats brought a mighty army and sur- 
rounded the island. Danish soldiers camped on the broad 
English moorlands, Danish songs echoed through the woods 
of Kent and Surrey and sounded in the streets of London 
town. The invaders were in full possession of the city. 
They held the royal castle, and their generals slept in King 
Ethelred's beds, while he had to take a bunk wherever he 
could find one. They were bold, brave, and strong. They 
had leaders who knew not the meaning of fear and were al- 
ways ready, and it seemed that this time they would take the 
kingdom. 

Yet they didn't take it after all, for there were other brave, 
bold men who came to Ethelred's aid. 

Twenty ships sailed down from the seas of Norway, twenty 
goodly vessels bearing blue and crimson sails, for the boy 
king Olaf, who dwelt in the far north country, had heard of 
the plight of Ethelred the Unready and said to his men, 
"Let us go and fight for him as we fight for our own land." 

At these words the soldiers cheered and bent to the oars, 
and thus they went to England. 

In from the sea they came and up the broad green Thames 



328 Educating by Story-Telling 

toward London town. The people along the river despaired 
at sight of their standard, for they thought smother army 
was coming to attack them. But the sorrow turned to re- 
joicing when King Ethelred met them just below the city, 
and Olaf said, in loud, clear tones, "I have brought my 
soldiers to fight for thee." 

Then there rang out such a blast of welcome as never 
English war horns sounded before or since. 

Olaf lost no time. The men of the north country fought 
for the love of fighting, and he was eager to hurl his army 
against the Danes. 

"First we will take the fort they have built to command 
the Thames," he exclaimed. "Then we will drive them 
from the city." 

King Ethelred shook his head. 

" It will not be easy to do that," he said. " Thrice already 
my army has tried it, but the Danish soldiers are thick on 
London Bridge. We cannot get neai' enough to attack the 
fort, because whenever the ships start up the river arrows 
and spears and stones come down upon them and they are 
driven back." 

King Olaf stood thinking and did not answer. Finally 
he said, "Then we must tear down the bridge." 

Ethelred looked at him as if he thought him crazy. "Tear 
down the bridge!" he repeated in amazement. "That is 
impossible. London Bridge is strong, and neither of us has 
an army of giants." 

Young Olaf looked at him and smiled, thinking how little 
this man knew of warfare. 

"Do as I bid you," he said, "and you shall see it fall." 

Ethelred had httle faith in the viking's words, but he was 
in so terrible a phght that he was willing to do anything that 
might pull him out of it. Who wouldn't be, with a Danish 
general sleeping in his bed? 

King Olaf gave some orders to his men. Then he said to 



stories for Telling 329 

Ethelred, "Bring your ships alongside mine, and we will get 
them ready." 

He ordered the men to make broad, flat roofs for every 
vessel, for he knew they could not tear down London Bridge 
unless protected from the spears and arrows of the Danes. 
The enemy had seized so much of King Ethelred's lumber 
that he hadn't half enough to make the roofs, so they tore 
down houses that the command might be carried out. 

Finally everything was ready, and the fleet of England 
and the fleet of Norway moved side by side up the Thames. 
The Danish soldiers laughed as they saw the queer-looking 
vessels coming toward them, thinking what fun it would be 
to drive back the boats of Ethehed the Unready, as they had 
done several times before. But the Danes didn't know as 
much as they thought they knew, and although their spears 
and arrows flew fast, the lumbering warships came on. 

Then the soldiers on the bridge shot their bows and threw 
their javelins as they had not done before. They hurled 
great rocks down upon the vessels, damaging some of them 
so much that they had to turn back. But they did not harm 
or frighten Olaf the viking. He caUed to his men and cheered 
them on, and nearer, neeu-er these good ships came, until they 
were close to the piles of London Bridge. 

Then they stopped a moment, stiU under the rain of stones 
and spears and arrows, and the Danish soldiers wondered 
what it meant. They could not see the thick, strong cables 
that were wound around the heavy supports of the bridge. 
They could not see the soldiers of Olaf lash the other ends 
fast to the vessels. But a moment later they understood 
all they had not seen. The ships turned with a sudden 
spurt. The Danish soldiers felt a mighty tug and pull. The 
roofed warships darted down the river, and then was heard 
the fall of London Bridge. 

How joyfuUy the men of England shouted, for now they 
could push ahead and attack the fort. They took it too, and 



330 Educating by Story-Telling 

drove the enemy out of the city. Danish warriors no longer 
slept under satin covers in the castle of King Ethelred. 
Danish songs no longer resounded through the woods of 
Kent and Surrey and across the broad, sea-lapped moorlands. 
The soldiers routed the Danes and drove them out of the 
country, and Olaf the boy viking sailed back to his far, white 
northland, rejoicing in the thought that he had saved his 
kingdom to Ethelred, which he could not have done but for 
the fall of London Bridge. 



HOW THEY CAME TO HAVE KITE DAY IN CHINA 

Retold from a Chinese Folk Tale 

(Physical Education) 

In the lovely province of Kwang Tung, a sage named 
Ng Chew lived in the far-off time. He not only was versed in 
the lore of past and present, but knew future events as well, 
and used his knowledge and his power to benefit mankind. 

One night in a vision he saw that a pestilence was about 
to sweep over the valley in which he lived, and his first thought 
was that he must save his people. He went from house 
to house telling the news and bidding every one flee with 
him to the mountains, and a few hours after he started on 
his mission the homes in the lowlands were deserted. 

Up on the heights the people were safe in the crisp, clean 
air. But after many days had passed they wanted to return 
to their homes. They thought of the growth in the rice 
fields and of the approaching harvest time. "We have been 
here long enough," they declared. "By this time the dan- 
ger is over and we ought to go back." But the wise Ng 
Chew knew it was not safe to return, and urged them to stay. 
There were a few who would not listen to his words. They 
started back to the lowlands, and Ng Chew wondered how he 



stories for Telling 331 

could keep the others on the mountain. Then a happy 
thought crossed his mind. He set everybody to making 
and flying kites, and soon had them so interested that they 
were glad to stay. 

Days afterward, when he knew the danger was past, he 
led them back to the valley. Then they realized what a 
blessed thing he had done in keeping them on the mountain, 
for all who had refused to stay there with him had died of 
the pestilence. 

The people's hearts were filled with gratitude toward the 
man who had saved them. 

"We wiU honor Ng Chew as long as he fives," they said. 
"When his birthday comes we wiU aU fly kites." 

This they did. Each year, on the birthday of Ng Chew, 
they left the rice fields and spent the day flying kites. 

The word spread beyond the little valley and from prov- 
ince to province, until all over the land kite flying marked 
the birthday of the sage of Kwang Tung. The wise man 
died and centuries passed, but still the Chinese keep Kite 
Day, honoring him who in the long ago led his people to 
safety in the mountains. 



THE STORY OF A STONE 
By David Starr Jordan 

(Science) 

Once on a time, a great many years ago, so many, many 
years that one grows very tired in trying to think how long 
ago it was ; in those old days when the great Northwest con- 
sisted of a few ragged and treeless hiUs, fuU of copper and 
quartz, bordered by a dreary waste of sand flats, over which 
the Gulf of Mexico rolled its warm and turbid waters as far 
north as Escanaba and Eau Claire ; in the days when Mar- 



332 Educating by Story-Telling 

quette Harbor opened out towards Baffin's Bay, and the 
Northern Ocean washed the crest of Mount Washington and 
wrote its name upon the Pictured Rocks ; when the tide of 
the Pacific, hemmed in by no snow-capped Sierras, came 
rushing through the Golden Gate between the Ozarks £md the 
north peninsula of Michigan, and swept over Plymouth Rock 
and surged up against Bunker Hill ; in the days when it would 
have been fun to study geography, for there were no capitals, 
nor any products, and all the towns were seaports — in fact, 
an immensely long time ago there lived somewhere in the 
northeastern part of the state of Wisconsin, not far from the 
city of Oconto, a little jellyfish. It was a curious little fellow, 
about the shape of half an apple, and the size of a pin's head ; 
and it floated around in the water, and ate little things, and 
opened and shut its umbrella pretty much as the jellyfishes do 
now on a sunny day off" Nahant Beach when the tide is coming 
in. It had a great many little feelers that hung down all 
around like so many Httle snakes ; so it was named Medusa, 
after a queer woman who lived a long while ago, when all 
sorts of stories were true. She wore snakes instead of hair, 
and used to turn people into stone images if they dared to 
make faces at her. So this little Medusa floated around, 
and opened and shut her umbrella for a good while, — a 
month or two, perhaps; we don't know how long. Then 
one morning, down among the seaweeds, she laid a whole 
lot of tiny eggs, transparent as crab-apple jelly, and smaller 
than the dewdiop on the end of a pine leaf. That was the 
last thing she did ; then she died, and our story henceforth 
concerns only one of those little eggs. 

One day the sun shone down into the water — the same sun 
that shines over the Oconto sawmills now — and touched 
these eggs with life ; and a little fellow whom we will call 
Favosites, because that was his name, woke up inside the 
egg, and came out into the world. He was only a little piece 
of floating jelly, shaped like a cartridge pointed at both ends. 



stories for Telling 333 

or like a grain of barley, although very much smaller. He 
had a great number of Uttle paddles on his sides. These 
kept flapping all the time, so that he was constantly in motion. 
And at night all these httle paddles shone with a rich green 
light, to show him the way through the water. It would 
have done you good to see them some night when all the little 
fellows had their lamps burning at once, and every wave as 
it rose and fell was all aglow with Nature's fireworks, which 
do not burn the fingers and leave no smell of sulphur. 

So the little Favosites kept scudding along in the water, 
dodging from one side to the other to avoid the ugly crea- 
tures that tried to eat him. There were crabs and clams of a 
fashion neither you nor I shall ever see alive. There were 
huge animals with great eyes, savage jaws like the beak of a 
snapping turtle and surrounded by long feelers. They sat 
in the end of a long, round shell, shaped Uke a length of stove 
pipe, and glowered like an owl in a hollow log ; and there were 
smaller ones that looked like lobsters in a dinner horn. But 
none of these caught the little fellow, else I should not have 
had this -story to tell. 

At last, having paddled about long enough, Favosites 
thought of settling m life. So he looked around till he found 
a flat bit of shell that just suited him. Then he sat down 
upon it and grew fast, like old Holger Danske in the Danish 
myth, or Frederick Barbarossa in the German one. He did 
not go to sleep, however, but proceeded to make himself a 
home. He had no head, but between his shoulders he made 
an opening which would serve him for mouth and stomach. 
Then he put a whole row of feelers out, and commenced 
catching little worms and floating eggs and bits of jeUy and 
bits of hme, — everything he could get, — and cramming 
them into his mouth. He had a great many curious ways, 
but the funniest of them all was what he did with the bits of 
h'me. He kept taking them in, and tried to wall himself up 
inside with them, as a person would "stone a well," or as 



334 Educating by Story-Telling 

though a man should swallow pebbles and stow them away 
in his feet and all around under the skin, till he had filled 
himself all full with them, as the man filled Jim Smiley's 
frog. 

Little Favosites became lonesome all alone in the bottom 
of that old ocean among so many outlandish neighbors. So 
one night, when he was fast asleep and dreaming as only a 
coral animal can dream, there sprouted out from his side, 
somewhere near where his sixth rib might have been if he had 
had any ribs, another little Favosites ; and this one very 
soon began to eat worms and to wall himself up as if for dear 
life. Then from these two another and another little bud 
came out, and other httle Favosites were formed. They all 
kept growing up higher and cramming themselves fuller and 
fuller of stone, till at last there were so many and they were 
so crowded together that there was not room for them to 
grow round, and so they had to become six-sided like the cells 
of a honeycomb. Once in a while some one in the company 
would feel jealous because the others got more of the worms, 
or would feel uneasy at sitting still so long and swallowing 
lime. Such a one would secede from the little union without 
even saying "good-by," and would put on the airs of the 
grandmother Medusa, and would sail around in the water, 
opening and shutting its umbrella, at last laying more eggs, 
which for all we know may have hatched out into more 
Favosites. 

So the old Favosites died, or ran away, or were walled up 
by the younger ones, and new ones filled their places, and the 
colony thrived for a long while, until it had accumulated a 
large stock of lime. 

But one day there came a freshet in the Menominee River, 
or in some other river, and piles of dirt and sand and mud 
were brought down, and all the little Favosites' mouths were 
filled with it. This they did not like, and so they died ; but 
we know that the rock house they were building was not 



stories for Telling 335 

spoiled, for we have it here. But it was tumbled about a 
good deal in the dirt, and the rolling pebbles knocked the 
corners off, and the mud worked into the cracks, and its 
beautiful color was destroyed. There it lay in the mud for 
ages, till the earth gave a great, long heave that raised Wis- 
consin out of the ocean, and the mud around our little 
Favosites packed and dried into hard rock and closed it in. 
So it became part of the dry land, and lay embedded in the 
rocks for centuries and centuries, while the old-fashioned 
ferns grew above it, and whispered to it strange stories of 
what was going on above ground in the land where things 
were living. 

Then the time of the first fishes came, and the other animals 
looked in wonder at them, as the Indians looked on Columbus. 
Some of them were like the little gar-pike of our river here, 
only much larger, — big as a stove pipe, and with a crust as 
hard as a turtle's. Then there were sharks, of strange forms, 
and some of them had teeth like bowie knives, with tempers 
to match. And the time of the old fishes came and went, 
and many more times came and went, but still Favosites lay 
in the ground at Oconto. 

Then came the long, hot, wet summer, when the mists 
hung over the earth so thick that you might have had to 
cut your way through them with a knife ; and great ferns 
and rushes, big as an oak and tall as a steeple, grew in the 
swamps of Indigma and Illinois. Their green plumes were 
so long and so densely interwoven that the Man in the Moon 
might have fancied that the earth was feathering out. Then 
all about, huge reptiles, with jaws like the gates of doom and 
teeth like cross-cut saws, and little reptiles with wings like 
bats, crawled, and swam, and flew. 

But the ferns died, and the reptiles died, and the rush 
trees fell in the swamps, and the Illinois and the Sangamon 
and the Wabash and all the other rivers covered them up. 
They stewed away under layers of clay and sand, till at last 



336 Educating by Story-Telling 

they turned into coal and wept bitter tears of petroleum. 
But all this while Favosites lay in the rocks in Wisconsin. 

Then the mists cleared away, and the sun shone, and the 
grass began to grow, and strange animals came from some- 
where or nowhere to feed upon it. There were queer little 
striped horses, with three or four hoofs on each foot, and no 
bigger than a Newfoundland dog, but as smart as ever you 
saw. There were great hairy elephants, with teeth like 
sticks of wood. There were hogs with noses so long that 
they could sit on their hind legs and root. And there were 
many still stranger creatures which no man ever saw alive. 
But still Favosites lay in the ground and waited. 

And the long, long summer passed by, and the autumn, and 
the Indian summer. At last the winter came, and it snowed 
and snowed, and it was so cold that the snow did not go off 
till the Fourth of July. Then it snowed and snowed till the 
snow did not go off at all. And then it became so cold that 
it snowed all the time, till the snow covered the animals, and 
then the trees, and then the mountains. Then it would 
thaw a little, and streams of water would run over the snow. 
Then it would freeze again, and the snow would pack into 
sohd ice. So it went on snowing and thawing and freezing, 
till nothing but snowbanks could be seen in Wisconsin, and 
most of Indiana was fit only for a skating rink. And the 
animals and plants which could get away, all went south to 
live, and the others died and were frozen into the snow. 

So it went on for a great many years. I dare not tell you 
how long, for you might not believe me. Then the spring 
came, the south winds blew, and the snow began to thaw. 
Then the ice came shding down from the mountains and hills 
and from the north toward the south. It went on, tearing 
up rocks, Uttle and big, from the size of a chip to the size of 
a house, crushing forests as you would crush an eggshell, and 
wiping out rivers as you would wipe out a chalk mark. So 
it came pushing, grinding, thundering along, — not very fast, 



stories for Telling 337 

you understand, but with tremendous force, like a plow 
drawn by a million oxen, for a thousand feet of ice is very 
heavy. And the ice plow scraped over Oconto, and little 
Favosites was torn from the place where he had lain so long ; 
but by good fortune he happened to fall into a crevice of the 
ice where he was not much crowded, else he would have been 
ground to powder and I should not have had this story to 
tell. And the ice melted as it sHd along, and it made great 
torrents of water, which, as they swept onward, covered the 
land with clay and pebbles. At last the ice came to a great 
swamp overgrown with tamarack and balsam. It melted 
here ; and all the rocks and stones and dirt it had carried 
— little Favosites and all — were dumped into one great 
heap. 

It was a very long time after, and man had been created, 
and America had been discovered, and the War of the Revo- 
lution and the Civil War had all been fought to the end, and 
a great many things had happened, when one day a farmer 
hving near Grand Chute, in Outagamie County, Wisconsin, 
was plowing up his clover field to sow to winter wheat. He 
picked up in the furrow a curious little bit of "petrified 
honeycomb," a good deal worn and dirty, but stiU showing 
plainly the honey cells and the bee bre'ad. Then he put it 
into his pocket and carried it home, and gave it to his boy 
Charley to take to the teacher and hear what he would say 
about it. And this is what he said. 



LIST OF STORIES BY MONTHS FOR EACH 

GRADE 



LIST OF STORIES BY MONTHS FOR EACH 

GRADE 

First Grade 

September 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Gingerbread Man, The Whale and the 

Elephant (Stories to Tell to Children). 
CoE, Fanny E. : Three Billy Goats Gruff (First Book of Stories for the 

Story-Teller). 
Heber, Elizabeth: Coming and Going (A Child's Story Garden). 
HoLBROOK, Florence : How Flax Was Given to Men (Book of Nature 

Myths). 
Lindsay, Maud : Dust under the Rug, Giant Energy and Fairy Skill 

(Mother Stories). 
Perrault, Charles: Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tales from Perrault). 
Sly, W. R. : Boots and His Brothers (World Stories Retold). 

October 

Arnold, Sarah L. : Columbus, the Boy of Genoa (Stepping Stones to 
Literature — Book 3). 

Bailey, C. S. : Bobby Squirrel's Busy Day (Story-Telling Time). 

Bryant, Sara Cone : Little Jackal and the Camel (Stories to Tell 
to Children). 

Coe, Fanny E. : The Boy and the Wolf, The Sun and the Wind (First 
Book of Stories for the Story-Teller). 

Dillingham, E. T. : A Hallowe'en Story (" Tell It Again" Stories). 

Gbierson, E. W. : The Smith and the Fairies (Book of Celtic Stories). 

Lang, Andrew: The Witch (Yellow Fairy Book). 

Potter, Beatrix : Squirrel Nutkin, Bunny Cottontail (Squirrel Nut- 
kin). 

PouLSSON, Emilie: The Thrifty Squirrels (In the Child's World). 

Rhys, Ernest : The Witch That Was a Hare (English Fairy Book). 

November 

Bailey, C. S. : The Kid Who Would Not Go (Firelight Stories). 
Chadwick, Mara L. Pratt- : Stories of the Pilgrim Babies (Stories of 

Colonial Children). 
CoE, Fanny E. : Jack the Giant Killer, Tom Thumb (First Book of 

Stories for the Story-Teller). 

341 



342 Educating by Story-Telling - 

Dillingham, E. T., and Emerson, A. P. : Gretchen and the Magic 

Fiddle (" Tell It Again" Stories). 
Keyes, Angela M. : Lazy Jack {Stories and Story-Telling). 
Olcott, F. J. : The Ears of Wheat {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 
PouLssoN, Emilie : The Chestnut Boys, The Crane Express {In the 

Child World). 
White, Eliza O. : A Thanksgiving Dinner {When Molly W^as Six). 
A Thanksgiving at Hollywood, Grandmother's Thanksgiving Story 

{Half a Hundred Stories). 

December 

Bailey, C. S., and Lewis, C. M. : The Legend of the Christmas Tree 
{For the Children's Hour). 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Golden Cobwebs {How to Tell Stories to 
Children). 

CoE, Fanny E. : St. Christopher {First Book of Stories for the Story- 
Teller). 

Dillingham, E. T., and Emerson, A. P. : Santa Claus' Helpers, 
The Story of the Man in the Moon, The Kitten That Wanted to 
Be a Christmas Present, A Christmas Legend {"Tell It Again" 
Stories). 

Lindsay, Maud: The Christmas Cake {More Mother Stories). 

Olcott, F. J. : The Stranger Child {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Sly, W. R. : The Christmas Gift, The Wise Men and the Star, The 
Shepherds and the Angels {World Stories Retold). 

January 

yEsop: The Bear and the Fowls (Adams: Fables and Rhymes). 

Alden, R. M. : The Forest Full of Friends {Why the Chimes Rang). 

Bailey, C. S. : The Travels of a Fox {For the Story-Teller). 

Lindsay, Maud: Mrs. Tabby Gray {Mother Stories). 

Macdonnell, Anne: Peter, the Stone Cutter {Italian Fairy Book). 

PouLSSON, Emilie : An All the Year Round Story, The Fairies' New 
Year's Gift {In the Child World). 

Richards, L. E. : The Pig Brother {The Pig Brother). 

Sly, W. R. : The Golden Goose, The Baby Brother in the Basket 
Boat, The Flood and the Rainbow {World Stories Retold). 

Slosson, Mrs. A. T. : The Horse That Believed He'd Get There {Story- 
Telling Library). 

SouTHEY, Robert : The Three Bears. 



stories for the First Grade 343 

February 

Dillingham, E. T., and Emerson, A. P.: Elaine's Vedentine {"Tell 

It Again" Stories). 
Gross, H. : Lincoln and the Pig (Lincoln's Own Stories). 
Lang, Andrew : East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon {Blue Story 

Book). 
Lindsay, Maud : Story of Gretchen. 

Nexon-Roulet, Mary F. : The Sake Waterfall {Japanese Folk Stories). 
Sly, W. R. : The Children's Friend, The Boy Who Lived in Church 

{World Stories Retold). 
White, Eliza O. : A Sunday Valentine {WJien Molly Was Six). 
WiGGiN, K. D., and Smith, N. A.: Little George Washington {The 

Story Hour) ; Three Little Pigs {Tales of Laughter). 
WiLLisTON, Teresa P.: The Stolen Charm {Japanese Fairy Tales). 
WiLTSE, Sara : Jack and the Beanstalk {Hero Folk of Ancient Britain). 



March 

Alden, R. M. : The Boy Who Discovered Spring {Why the Chimes 
Rang). 

AsBj^RNSEN, P. C. : Little Fred and His Fiddle {Fairy Tales from the 
Far North). 

Bailey, G. S. : Why the Bear Sleeps All Winter {Firelight Stories). 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Jackal and the Alligator, Little Jack 
Roll-a-Round {How to Tell Stories to Children). 

Grimm, Jacob : The Queen Bee, The Elves and the Shoemaker {Ger- 
man Household Tales). 

Hall, L F., and Lennox, E. D. : Easter Lily {Red Letter Days). 

HoLBROOK, Florence: Why the Sea Is Salt {Book of Nature Myths). 

Jacobs, Joseph : The Cat and the Mouse {English Fairy Tales). 

Kipling, Rudyard : The Elephant's Child, How the Rhinoceros Got 
His Skin {Just So Stories). 

PouLSSON, Emilie : A Wise Old Horse {In the Child World). 

The Pink Knight {Dumpy Books for Children). 

April 

Andersen, Hans Christian: The Wild Swans {Wonder Stories). 
Bailey, C. S. : The Little Old Woman Who Went to the North Wind 

{Firelight Stories). 



344 Educating by Story-Telling 

Bryant, Sara Cone: Why the Morning Glory Climbs, Why the 

Evergreen Trees Keep Their Leaves {How to Tell Stories la 

Children). 
Bryce, C. T. : The Little Slipper Orchid (That's Why Stories). 
HoLBROOK, Florence: The First Humming Bird {Book of Nature 

Mytfis). 
Jacobs, Joseph: Mr. Vinegeir {English Fairy Tales). 
Johnson, Clifton : The Travels of a Fox {Oak Tree Stories). 
Lindsay, Maud: The Little Gray Pony {Mother Stories). 
Olcott, F. J. : The Lovehest Rose in the World {Good Stories for 

Great Holidays). 
Seton, Ernest Thompson : Raggylug (Bryant : How to Tell Stories 

to Children). 

May 

Alden, R. M. : King's Garden {Why the Chimes Rang). 

AsBJ^RNSEN, P. C. : Paper Tom {The Fairy World). 

Bailey, C. S., and Lewis, CM.: Hans and the Wonderful Flower, 

The Legend of the Dandelion {For the Children's Hour). 
Blakewell, E. S. : The Elder Tree Mother {True Fairy Stories). 
Bryce, C. T. : The Mountain Ash {That's Why Stories). 
Judd, M. C: How the Water Lily Came {Wigwam Stories). 
Keyes, Angela M. : The Two Brothers {Stories and Story-Telling). 
Lindsay, Maud: The Closing Door (Mother Stories). 
Wiggin, K. D., and Smith, N. A. : Pancake (Tales of Laughter). 
A Story of the Flag (Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas). 

June 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Little Pink Rose (How to Tell Stories to 
Children) ; Another Little Red Hen, The Blackberry Bush, The 
Whale and the Elephant, The Jackal and the Camel (Stories to 
Tell to Children). 

Cabot, Ella L. : Hans, the Shepherd Boy (Ethics for Children). 

Dillingham, E. T., and Emerson, A. P. : The First Flag of the United 
States (Tell It Again). 

Hall, I. F., and Lennox, E. D. : Flag Day (Red Letter Days). 

Sly, W. R. : The Boy with His Lunch (World Stories Retold). 



Stories for the Second Grade 345 

Second Grade 

September 

JEsop: The Ant and the Grasshopper (Adams: Fables and Rhymes). 

Andersen, H. C. : The Flax (Wonder Tales). 

Bjornson, Bjornstjerne : Oeyvind and Marit (Keyes: Slories and 

Story-Telling). 
Bryant, Sara Cone: The Sailor Man (How to Tell Stories to Children). 
Grimm, Jacob : The Town Musicians, The Wolf and the Seven Little 

Goats (German Household Tales). 
HoLBROOK, F. E. : How Flax Was Given to Man (Book of Nature 

Myths). 
O'Grady, Alice: The Old Woman Who Lived in a Vinegar Bottle 

(The Story-Teller's Book). 
Sly, W. R. : How a Happy Home Was Lost, The First Two Brothers 

(World Stories Retold). 

October 

Baldwin, James: Wondering Jack (Second Fairy Reader). 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Cat and the Parrot (Best Slories to Tell to 

Children.) 
Bryce, C. T. : The Raven (That's Why Stories). 
Cabot, Ella L. : The Squirrel's Devotion (Ethics for Children). 
Grimm, Jacob : Brier Rose (German Household Tales). 
Jacobs, Joseph : Tom Tit Tot (English Fairy Tales). 
Kipling, Rudyard : The Cat That Walked by Himself (Just So Stories). 
Sly, W. R.: The Ladder That Reached to Heaven, The Slave Boy 

Who Became a Prince (World Stories Retold). 

November 

Bailey, C. S., and Lewis, C. M. : The Mince Pie (For the Children's 

Hour). 
Baldwin, James: GrumbHng Peter (Second Fairy Reader). 
Bryce, C. T. : The Travelers and the Bear (Fables from Afar). 
Lindsay, Maud : The Visit, The Turkey's Nest (More Mother Stories). 
O'Grady, Alice: A Good Thanksgiving (The Story-Teller's Book). 
Scudder, H. E. : Diamonds and Toads (Fables and Folk Stories). 
WiGGiN, K. D., and Smith, N. A.: The First Thanksgiving (The Story 

Hour). 
Grandmother's Thanksgiving, A Thanksgiving at Hollywood (Half a 

Hundred Stories). 



346 Educating by Story-Telling 

December 

Bryant, Sara Cone : Fulfilled, The Story of Jairus' Daughter (How 
to Tell Stories to Children). 

Bryce, C. T. : The Old Woman and the Crowbar (Fables from Afar). 

Cabot, Ella L. : St. Francis of Assisi and the Wolf (Ethics for Chil- 
dren) . 

HoLBROOK, Florence: Why the Fox Has a White Tip on His Tail 
(Book of Nature Myths). 

O'Grady, Alice : Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning, The Christmas 
Story, The Christmas Tree (The Story-Teller's Book). 

Olcott, F. J. : Little Wolf's Wooden Shoes (Good Stories for Great 
Holidays). 

Wiggin, K. D., and Smith, N. A.: The First Christmas (The Story 
Hour). 

January 

AsBJ^RNSEN, P. C. : Little Fred and His Fiddle (Fairy Tales from the 
Far North). 

Bryant, Sara Cone : The Little Match Girl (Best Stories to Tell to 
Children). 

Bryce, C. T. : Why the Cat Washes after Eating, Why Turtles Stay 
near Water (That's Why Stories). 

Cabot, Ella L. : The Magic Mask (Ethics for Children). 

Pierson, C. D. : The Lamb with the Longest Tail (Among the Farm- 
yard People). 

ScuDDER, H. E. : One Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes (Fables and Folk 
Stories). 

Sly, W. R. : The Elephant and the Tailor, The Story without an End, 
The Flood and the Rainbow (World Stories Retold). 

February 

Baldwin, James: Saving the Birds (Lincoln), Going to Sea (Wash- 
ington) (Fifty Famous People). 

Kipling, Rudyard: How the Camel Got His Hump (Just So Stories). 

Olcott, F. J. : The Cherry Tree, The Apple Orchard (Good Stories for 
Great Holidays). 

Pierson, C. D. : The Story That Swallow Didn't Tell (Among the 
Farmyard People). 

Stoddard, John L. : The Story of St. Valentine (Lectures — South Tyrol). 

Wiggin, K. D., and Smith, N. A.: Little George Washington, Big 
George Washington (The Story Hour). 



stories for the Second Grade 347 

March 

Bryant, Sara Cone : Little Tavwots (How to Tell Stories to Children). 
Cooke, Flora J. : An Indian Story of the Mole {Nature Myths). 
HoLBROOK, Florence: Why the Evergreen Trees Never Lose Their 

Leaves (A Book of Nature Myths). 
O'Grady, Alice : Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse, The Sheep and the 

Pig That Built a House, The Straw Ox {The Story-Teller's Book). 
Olcott, F. J. : The Little Tree That Longed for Leaves {Good Stories 

for Great Holidays). 
Sly, W. B. : W hy Boys Take off Their Hats in Church {World Stories 

Retold). 

April 

^sop: The Fox and the Crow, The Jay and the Peacock (Adams: 

Fables and Rhymes). 
Bailey, C. S., and Lewis, C. M. : The Bed-Headed Woodpecker 

{For the Children's Hour). 
CooKE, Flora J. : How the Bobin's Breast Became Bed {Nature 

Myths). 
Lindsay, Maud: Out of the Nest {More Mother Stories). 
PiERSON, C. D. : The Wonderful, Shiny Egg {Among the Farmyard 

People). 
ScuDDER, Horace E. : The Jackdaw and the Doves {Fables and Folk 

Stories). 
Sly, W. B. : The Woman Who Shared Her Last Loaf {World Stories 

Retold). 

May 

Andersen, H. C. : The Snowdrop, The Little Butterfly Brothers, 

The Water Drop (Olcott: Good Stories for Great Holidays). 
Bryant, Sara Cone: How Brother Babbit Fooled the Whale {Best 

Stories to Tell to Children). 
CoE, Fanny E. : The Story of the Anemone {First Book of Stories for 

the Story-Teller). 
Hart, A. S., and Stevens, E. : A Boy Who Won the Cross {Romance of 

the Civil War). 
Holbrook, Florence : The Story of the First Butterflies {Book of 

Nature Myths). 
Sly, W. B. : The Prince Who Hated Spiders and Flies {World Stories 

Retold). 



348 Educating by Story-Telling 

June 

Baldwin, James : The Boy and the Wolf, Another Bird Story, Speak- 
ing a Piece {Fifty Famous People). 

Bryant, Sara Cone: Epaminondas and His Auntie {How to Tell 
Stories to Children). 

Bryce, C. T. : The Four-Leaf Clover {That's Why Stories). 

Grimm, Jacob : The Valiant Little Tailor, Snow White and the Seven 
Dwarfs {German Household Tales). 

O'Grady, Alice: The Hop-About Man {The Story-Teller's Book). 

Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : The Story of Harriet Ann, The Fox and 
the Crab, The Fairy Bird {Story-Telling in the Home and School). 



Third Grade 

September 

Baldwin, James : Coco {Second Fairy Reader) ; Writing a Composi- 
tion (Longfellow), The Whistle (Franklin), the Ettrick Shepherd 
(James Hogg) {Fifty Famous People). 

Cabot, Ella L. : How Little Cedric Became a Knight, The Boy Who 
Wanted to Learn Chmbing Alone, Hans, the Shepherd Boy {Ethics 
for Children). 

Grimm, Jacob: The Little Flower Pot, Snow White and Rose Red 
{German Household Tales). 

HoLBROOK, Florence : Why the Peacock's Tail Has a Thousand Eyes 
{A Book of Nature Myths). 

Sly, W. R. : The Flood of Waters {World Stories Retold). 

October 

Baldwin, James : The Garden of Delight {Old Stories of the East) ; 

The Cahph and the Poet, BecosI Becos! Becos! {Fifty Famous 

People). 
Bryant, Sara Cone: The Nightingale, The Burning of the Rice 

Fields {How to Tell Stories to Children). 
Harrison, Elizabeth: Christopher Columbus {In Story Land). 
Miller, Mrs. H. : How the Crow Baby Was Punished {True Bird 

Stories). 
NixoN-RouLET, Mary F. : A Painter of Cats {Japanese Folk Stories). 
PuMPHREY, M. B. : The Jack o' Lantern {Pilgrim Stories). 



stories for the Third Grade 349 

ScuDDER, Horace E. : The Wolves and the Sheep (Fables and Folk 

Stories). 
The Story of Columbus {Stepping Stones to Literature — Book 3). 

November 

Bailey, C. S., and Lewis, C. M. : The Story of the First Corn, Little 

Cosette (The Children's Hour). 
Baldwin, James : Sir Walter Raleigh {Fifty Famous Stories Retold) ; 

A Lesson in Humility (Haroun-al-Raschid), Another World Story 
"*' (Israel Putnam), The Horseshoe Nails {Fifty Famous People). 
HoLBROOK, Florence : How Fire Was Brought to the Indians {Book 

of Nature Myths). 
Jordan, David Starr : How the Flounder's Mouth Got Twisted {The 

Book of Knight and Barbara). 
MacManus, Seumas: The Long Leather Bag {Donegal Fairy Book). 
NixoN-RouLET, M. F. : The Goddess of Growing Things {Japanese 

Folk Stories). 
PuMPHREY, M. B. : The First Thanksgiving {Pilgrim Stories). 
Schauffler, R. H. : Grandma's Thanksgiving Story {Book of Thanks- 
giving). 
WiGGiN, K. D., and Smith, N. A. : The First Thanksgiving Day {The 

Story Hour). 

December 

Alden, R. M. : In the Great Walled Country {Why the Chimes Rang). 

Baldwin, James : Bruce and the Spider {Fifty Famous Stories Retold) ; 
The Landlord's Mistake {Fifty Famous People). 

Dickinson, A. D., and Skinner, A. M. : A Little Girl's Christmas 
{Children's Book of Christmas Stories). 

Heber, Elizabeth: A Christmas Story, The First Christmas Tree 
{A Child's Story Garden). 

Jacobs, Joseph: Cap o' Rushes {English Fairy Tales). 

Jordan, David Starr : The Boy That Whacked the Witched Toad 
Stools {The Book of Knight and Barbara). 

Lindsay, Maud : The Christmas Cake {More Mother Stories). 

Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : Little Paulina's Christmas {Story- felling 
in the Home and School). 

Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe {Storytellers^ Magazine, Decem- 
ber, 1914). 

The Christmas Visitor {Storytellers' Magazine, December, 1913). 



350 Educating by Story-Telling 

January 

Baldwin, James: The Shepherd Boy Painter, Two Great Painters, 
The King and the Bees, Our First Great Painter {Fifty Famous 
People) ; Peter Woodland (American Book of Golden Deeds) ; 
The Two Brothers (Old Stories of the East). 

Cabot, Ella L. : The Quails (Ethics for Children). 

Farmer, J. F. V. : How Jean Found the Calf (Boy and Girl Heroes). 

Grimm, Jacob : Old Sultan (German Household Tales) . 

HoLBRooK, Florence : The Story of the First Moles (A Book of 
Nature Myths). 

Perrault, Charles: Beauty and the Beast (Fairy Tales). 

Scudder, H. E. : The Stag at Stake (Fables and Folk Stories). 

February 

Baldwin, James : The Young Scout, The Lad Who Bode Sidesaddle 

(Fifty Famous People). 
Bryant, Sara Cone : The Jackal and the Camel (How to Tell Stories 

to Children). 
Cabot, Ella L. : Lincoln's Unvarying Kindness (Ethics for Children). 
Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung : The Eagle and the Bice Birds 

(Chinese Fables and Folk Stories). 
Harris, J. C. : How Brer Bear's Hair was Combed (Little Mr. Thimble- 

finger). 
HoLBRooK, Florence : The Lantern and the Fan (A Book of Nature 

Myths). 
Jacobs, Joseph : Jack and the Golden Snuff Box (English Fairy Tales). 
Olcott, F. J. : George Washington £md the Colt (Good Stories for Great 

Holidays). 
Scudder, Horace E. : The Fair One with the Golden Locks (The 

Children's Book) ; The Four BuUs and the Lion (Fables and Folk 

Stories) ; An Old Man and His Sons (Fables and Folk Stories). 
Wilson : The Virginia Boy (Nature Study — Book 2). 

March 

Andersen, H. C. : The Loveliest Bose in the World (Good Stories for 

Great Holidays). 
Baldwin, James : The Whisperers, How a Prince Learned to Bead, 

Read and You WiU Know, The Young Cupbearer (Fifty Famous 

People). 
Cabot, Ella L. : The Broken Flower Pot (Ethics for Children). 



stories for the Third Grade 351 

Harris, J. C. : The Grandmother of the Dolls {Little Mr. Thimble- 
finger). 

Heber, Elizabeth: The Song of the Pine Tree (A Child's Story 
Garden). 

Jordan, David Starr : Why the Parrot Was so Strong {The Book of 
Knight and Barbara). 

Miller, Mrs. H. : My First Bird {True Bird Stories). 

Olcott, F. J. : A Lesson of Faith {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Sly, W. R. : The Generous Uncle and the Selfish Nephew {World 
Stories Retold). 

Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : The White Hare {Days and Deeds). 

WiGGiN, K. D., and SmTU, N. A. : The Emperor's Bird's Nest {The 
Fairy Ring). 

April 

Baldwin, James : The Sons of the Caliph, The Boy and the Robbers 

{Fifty Famous People) ; The Bell of Atri {Fifty Famous Stories 

Retold). 
Bryant, Sara Cone : The Tailor and the Three Beasts {Stories to Tell 

to Children). 
CowLES, J. D. : The Queen's Necklace {The Art of Story-Telling). 
Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung : The Mule and the Lion, The Fish 

and the Flowers {Chinese Fables and Folk Stories). 
Farmer, J. F. V. : A Brave Russian Girl {Boy and Girl Heroes). 
Lyman, Edna : The Princess Moonbeam, The Boastful Bamboo, 

The Mirror of Matsuyama {Story-Telling : What to Tell and How to 

Tell It). 
Miller, Mrs. H. : Doctor Dot, How the Dog Interfered {True Bird 

Stories). 

May 

Baldwin, James: A Clever Slave, The Story of a Great Story, The 
King and the Page, Why He Carried the Turkey, The Caliph and 
the Gardener, Saved by a Dolphin, The General and the Fox 
{Fifty Famous People). 

Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung : The Wind, the Clouds, and the Snow 
{Chinese Fables and Folk Stories). 

JuDD, M. C. : The Legend of the Arbutus {Wigwam Stories). 

JuDSON, K. B. : The Miser of Takhoma {Myths and Legends of the 
Pacific Northwest). 

Lyman, Edna : The White Hare and the Crocodiles, The Tongue-Cut 
Sparrow {Story-Telling: What to Tell and How to Tell It). 



352 Educating by Story-Telling 

NixoN-RouLET, Mary F. : Princess Moonbeam {Japanese Folk Stories). 
ScuDDER, Horace E. : Clever Alice (Fables and Folk Stories). 
Sly, W. R. : The Shepherd Boy Who Slew a Giant {World Stories 
Retold). 

June 

Baldwin, James: The Cowherd Who Became a Poet, The Lover of 
Men, The Charcoal Man and the King {Fifty Famous People). 

Blumenthal, Verra X. K. de : The Tsarevna Frog, Seven Simeons, 
The Language of Birds {Folk Tales from the Russian). 

English, Thomas : The Ax of Ranier, The Black Cat {Fairy Stories 
and Wonder Tales). 

Grimm, Jacob : The Three Little Men in the Wood, The Three Lan- 
guages, The Little Farmer {German Household Tales). 

Nixon-Roulet, M. F. : The Boastful Bamboo {Japanese Folk Stories). 

PouLSSON, Emilie : Knut Spelevink, The Princess Lindagull, Sikku 
and the Trolls, Sampo Lappelil {Top of the World Series). 



Fourth Grade 

September 

Baldwin, James : The Great Chief {Old Stories of the East) ; The 

Charcoal Man and the King {Fifty Famous People). 
Brown, A. L., and Bell, J. M. : Why the White Bear Lives Alone 

{Tales of the Red Children). 
Bryant, Sara Cone: The Castle of Fortune {Stories to Tell to 

Children). 
Cabot, Ella L: The Two Travelers {Etliics for Children). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap: Pan and His Pipes {Pan and His 

Pipes and Other Stories). 
Grimm, Jacob : Six Soldiers of Fortune, The Little House in the Wood, 

The Three Trades {German Household Tales). 
Lang, Andrew: The Fisherman and His Wife {Green Fairy Book). 
Ramaswami Raju: The Hammer and the Anvil {Indian Fables). 
De la Ramee, L. : The Nurnberg Stove (Wiggin and Smith : The 

Story Hour). 

October 

Baldwin, James : The Master of the Nile {Old Stories of the East) ; 
Partners {American Book of Golden Deeds); Which Was King? 
{Fifty Famous People). 



stories for the Fourth Grade 353 

Bryant, Sara Cone : Why the Water in Rivers Is Never Still {How 

to Tell Stories to Children). 
Cabot, Ella L. : The Jack o' Lantern {Ethics for Children). 
Cather, Katherine Dunlap: The Tortoise That Gave the World 

Music {Pan and His Pipes and Other Stories). 
Harris, J. C. : The Witch of the Well {Little Mr. Thimble finger). 
Jacobs, Joseph : Mr. Fox {English Fairy Tales). 
Lang, Andrew: The Story of Caliph Stork {Green Fairy Book). 
Mabie, H. W. : The Badger's Money {Folk Tales Every Child Should 

Know). 
Olcott, F. J. : Shippeitaro, Burg's Hill's on Fire, The King of Cats 

{Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

November 

Alden, R. M. : The Knights of the Silver Shield {Why the Chimes 
Rang). 

Baldwin, James: The Golden Tripod {Fifty Famous People). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap : The Holy Bird {Story of Music in 
China — Pan and His Pipes and Other Stories). 

Daudet, Alphonse : The Last Lesson {How to Tell Stories to Children). 

Harris, J. C. : Brer Terrapin's Fiddle String {Little Mr. Thimble- 
finger). 

HowELLS, W. D. : Turkeys Turning the Tables {Christmas Every Day). 

JuDD, M. C. : The Marriage of Mondahmin {Wigwam Stories). 

Lang, Andrew: Rosanella {Green Fairy Book). 

MacManus, Seumas : Manis, the MiUer {Donegal Fairy Tales). 

Schauffler, R. H. (Ed.) : The First Thanksgiving Day in New 
England, Jericho Bob, Ann Mary's Two Thanksgivings, Polly's 
Thanksgiving {Thanksgiving) . 

Sly, W. R. : The Little Lame Prince {World Stories Retold). 

Zitkala-sa : The Badger and the Bear {Old Indian Legends). 

December 

Andersen, H. C. : The Little Match Girl {Fairy Tales). 
Bryant, Sara Cone : Fulfilled {Hoiv to Tell Stories to Children). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap : A Star and a Song, The Harp King 

Alfred Played {Pan and His Pipes and Other Stories). 
CooLiDGE : Little Roger's Night in Church (Schauffler : Christmas). 
Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung: The Proud Fox and the Crab, 

How the Moon Became Beautiful {Chinese Fables and Folk Stories). 



354 Educating by Story-Telling 

Dickens, Charles : The Christmas Goose at the Cratchits' (Schauff- 
LER : Christmas) . 

Dodge, M. M. : The Festival of St. Nicholas (Schauffler : Christmas). 

Miller, Mrs. H. : Christmas in a Baggage Car, Lottie's Christmas 
Tree {Kristy's Rainy Day Picnics). 

Olcott, F. J. : The Christmas Cuckoo (Good Stories for Great Holi- 
days). 

PouLSSON, Emilie : A Legend of Mercy (Top of the World Series). 

Stein, Evaleen : FeUx (Troubadour Tales). 

January 

Cabot, 'Ella L., [The Good Bishop, The Banyan Deer (Ethics for 

Children). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap : Stephen, the Child Crusader (Pan and 

His Pipes and Other Stories). 
CowLES, J. D. : Robin Hood and Sir Richard at Lee, King Midas' 

Ears (The Art of Story-Telling). 
Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung : The Melon and the Professor 

(Chinese Fables and Folk Stories). ■ 
Farmer, J. F. V. : Roland and the Jewel, David, the Brave Shepherd 

Boy (Boy and Girl Heroes). 
JuDD, M. C. : The Face of Manitou on the Rock (Wigwam Stories). 
MacManus, Seumas: Conal, Donal, and Taig (Donegal Fairy Tales). 
Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : The Judgment Seat of Vikramaditya 

(Story-Telling in the Home and School). 
PouLssoN, Emilie : The Testing of the Two Knights (Top of the World 

jStories). 

February 

Brown, A. L., and Bell, J. M., : The Cleft Mountain (Tales of the 

Red Children). 
Cabot, Ella L. : A Soldier's Pardon, The Sympathy of Abraham 

Lincoln (Ethics for Children). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap: When Knighthood Was in Flower 

(Pan and His Pipes and Other Stories). 
Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung : The Children and the Dog (Chinese 

Fables and Folk Stories). 
Farmer, J. F. V. : At the Ford of the Tribute (Boy and Girl Heroes). 
Grimm, Jacob : Jorinda and Joringel (German Household Tales) . 
Lang, Andrew: The War Horse of Alexander (The Animal Story 

Book). 



stories for the Fourth Grade 355 

Moore, Charles W. : A Backwoods Boyhood (Abraham Lincoln). 
PouLssoN, Emilie: The Forest Witch (Top of the World Stories). 
Tappan, Eva M. : Dolly Madison (American Hero Stories) ; How Cats 
Came to Purr (Cat Stories Retold from St. Nicholas). 

March 

BoYESEN, H. H. : Thorwald and the Star Children (Modern Vikings). 
Bryant, Sara Cone : The Dagada's Harp (Stories to Tell to Children). 
Cather, Katherine Dunlap : The VioUn Makers of Cremona (Pan 

and His Pipes and Other Stories). 
Farmer, J. F. V. : Noel Duval, How a Boy Saved a Queen, The Sword 

of King Arthur (Boy and Girl Heroes). 
KoROLENKO, Z. : Hot Cross Buns (The Book of Easter). 
Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : Glooscap and the Great Wind Bird 

(Story-Telling in the Home and School). 
Ramaswami Raju: The Workman and the Trees (Indian Fables). 
Sly, W. R. : Grace Darling, The Slave Girl Who Helped a Great 

Captain (World Stories Retold). 

April 

Blumenthal, Verra X. K. de: Ivanoushka the Simpleton, Woe 
Bogotir, Baba Yaga, Dimian the Peasant, The Golden Moun- 
tain (Folk Tales from the Russian). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap : The Songs of Hiawatha (Pan and 
His Pipes and Other Stories). 

Farmer, J. F. V. : The Young Hannibal (Boy and Girl Heroes). 

Lang, Andrew : Cowper's Hares (The Animal Story Book). 

Olcott, F. J. : The Boy Who Became a Robin, The Quails, The Greedy 
Geese (Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : The Ride of Paul Revere (Story-Telling 
in the Home and School). 

May 

Baldwin, James: Androclus and the Lion (Fifty Famous Stories 

Retold). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap: The Holy Grail (Pan and His Pipes 

and Other Stories). 
CowLES, J. D. : The Coming of Arthur (The Art of Story-Telling). 
Davis, M. H., and Chow-Leung : The Thief and the Elephant, The 

Hen and the Mountain Turtle (Chinese Fables and Folk Stories). 



356 Educating by Story-Telling 

Harrison, Elizabeth : The Story of Decoration Day (In Story Land). 
HoLBROOK, Florence : The Story of the First Mocking Bird {Book of 

Nature Myths). 
Olcott, F. J. : The Wonder Tree, The Blue Jay {Good Stories for Great 

Holidays) . 
Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : The Origin of Memorial Day {Days and 

Deeds). 
A Rat Tale {Cat Stories Retold from St. Nicholas). 

June 

Brown, A. J., and Bell, J. M. : The Story of Ithenhiels {Tales of the 

Red Children). 
Farmer, J. F. V. : Betty Lane {Boy and Girl Heroes). 
Price, L. L. : The Legs of Duncan Ketcham {Lads and Lassies of 

Other Days). 
Sly, W. R. : The Emperor and the Goose Boy, Betsy Ross and the 

Flag, How America was Named, The Fairy Godfather of the 

Orchards {World Stories Retold). 
Tappan, E. M. : The Star-Spangled Banner, A Flag Incident, General 

Scott and the Stars and Stripes {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Fifth Grade 

September 

Baldwin, James : Ezekiel and Daniel {American Book of Golden Deeds) ; 

The Forging of Balmung {Hero Tales). 
Brown, Abbie F. : The Dwarf Giants {In the Days of Giants). 
Eastman, C. A. and E. : The Buffalo and the Field Mouse {Smoky 

Day's Wigwam Evenings). 
Harris, J. C. : Mr. Fox and Miss Goose {Nights with Uncle Remus). 
Jacobs, Joseph : Master of All Masters {English Fairy Tales). 
JuDD, M. C. : Wampum, or Indian Money {Wigwam Stories). 
Kingsley, Charles: How They Built the Good Ship Argo in Icolos 

{Greek Heroes). 
Kipling, Rltdyard: Mowgli's Brothers {Jungle Book). 
Bessie's Escape {Panther Stories Retold from St. Nicholas). 

October 

Baldwin, James: Columbus and the Egg {Thirty More Famous 
Stories); The Tombs Angel {American Book of Golden Deeds). 



stories for the Fifth Grade 357 

Eastman, C. A. and E. : The Frogs and the Crane (Smoky Day's 
Wigwam Evenings). 

HiGGiNSON, T. W. : How Diego Mendez Got Food for Columbus 
{American Explorers). 

Irving, Washington : Columbus at La Rabida (Olcott : Good Stories 
for Great Holidays). 

Jacobs, Joseph : The Field Boliauns (Celtic Fairy Tales). 

Kipling, Rudyard: Kaa's Hunting (Jungle Book). 

Lamartine, De : The Mutiny (Olcott : Good Stories for Great Holi- 
days). 

Miller, Joaquin : A Bear on Fire (True Bear Stories). 

MooRE, Charles W. : Guanahani (Cfiristopher Columbus). 

Bertholde (Stories of the Middle Ages Retold from St. Nicholas). 

November 

Baldwin, James: The Red Cross (American Book of Golden Deeds). 
Grimm, Jacob : The Robber Bridegroom, The Youth Who Could Not 

Shiver nor Shake (German Household Tales). 
Kipling, Rudyard : How Fear Came (First Jungle Book). 
Pumphrey, M. B. : The Indians and the Jack o' Lantern, The 

Sword of Miles Standish, The Voyage of the Mayflower, Water 

Babies (Pilgrim Stories). 
Pyle, Howard: How Robin Hood Became an Outlaw (Some Merry 

Adventures of Robin Hood). 
Warner, C. D. : The Coming of Thanksgiving (Being a Boy). 
An Old-Time Thanksgiving (Indian Stories Retold from St. Nicholas). 
The Story of the Sphinx (Stories of the Ancient World Retold from St. 

Nicholas). 

December 

Baldwin, James: Damon and Pythias (Fifty Famous Stories Retold). 
Kipling, Rudyard: The Red Flower (Jungle Book). 
Olcott, F. J. : The Thunder Oak {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 
Pyle, Howard : Robin Hood's Adventure with the Tinker, The 

Sheriff's Shooting Match (Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood). 
Stein, Evaleen: Felix (Troubadour Tales). 

Stockton, Frank R. : Christmas before Last (The Bee Man of Orn). 
Walsh, K. : St. Nicholas and the Robbers (The Story of Santa Claus). 
Wilde, Oscar: The Star-Child (The Happy Prince). 
How Uncle Sam Observes Christmas (Our Holidays Retold from St. 

Nicholas). 



358 Educating by Story-Telling 

The First Christmas Tree in New Engleind {Colonial Stories Retold 
from St. Nicholas). 

January 

Baldwin, James : The Bootblack from Ann Street (American Book of 

Golden Deeds). 
Bryant, Sara Cone : The Red Thread of Courage (How to Tell Stories). 
Cabot, Ella Lyman : The Persian and His Three Sons (Ethics for 

Children). 
Harris, J. C. : Brer Fox Catches Brer Rabbit (Nights with Uncle 

Remus). 
Holland, R. S. : The Boys of Devon (Historic Boyhoods). 
Kipling, Rudyard: Tiger! Tiger! (The Jungle Book). 
Miller, Joaquin: Music-Loving Bears (True Bear Stories). 
Pyle, Howard : Robin Hood Saves Will Sutley's Life, The Sheriff's 

Visit to Robin Hood (Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood). 
The Boyhood of Michelangelo (Stories of the Middle Ages Retold from 

St. Nicholas). 

February 

Baldwin, James: Following the Surveyor's Chain (Fifty Famous 
People) ; The Great Law-Giver (Old Stories of the East). 

Bryant, Sara Cone: David and Goliath (Stories to Tell to Children). 

Kipling, Rudyard: Letting in the Jungle (Second Jungle Book). 

Olcott, F. J. : Young George Washington and the Colt (Good Stories 
for Great Holidays). 

Schauffler, R. H. : Choosing Abe Lincoln Captain (Lincoln's Birth- 
day). 

ToMLiNSON, Everett: How George Washington Was Made Com- 
mander in Chief (The War for Independence). 

A New Leaf from Washington's Boy Life (Colonial Stories Retold from 
St. Nicholas). 

How Moses Was Emancipated (Civil War Stories Retold from St. 
Nicholas). 

March 

Baldwin, James : The Story of Regulus (Fifty Famous Stories Retold). 
Bryant, Sara Cone: Tarpeia (How to Tell Stories to Children). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap : When Mozart Raced with Marie 

Antoinette (Boyhood Stories). 
Eastman, C. A. and E. : The Falcon and the Duck (Smoky Day's 

Wigwam Evenings). 



stories for the Fifth Grade 359 

Harris, J. C. : How Brer Fox Was Too Smart {Nighls wilh Uncle 

Remus). 
Kipling, Rudyard : Red Dog (Second Jungle Book). 
Pyle, Howard: Robin Hood and His Men before Queen Eleanor 

(Some Merry Adventures of Robin Jlood). 
Schmidt, Canon : The Easter Eggs. 
The Fire Cat (Panther Stories Retold from St. Nicholas). 
The General's Easter Box (Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas). 

April 

Baldwin, James : Ogier the Dane (The Story of Roland) ; Grace 
Darling, Alfred the Great (Fifty Famous Stories Retold). 

Bolton, S. K. : Garibaldi (Lives of Poor Boys Who Became Famous). 

Harris, J. C. : Brer Rabbit's Astonishing Prank (Nights with Uncle 
Remus). 

Jacobs, Joseph: Hudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary (Celtic 
Fairy Tales). 

Kipling, Rudyard: The Spring Running (Second Jungle Book). 

Pyle, Howard : Robin Hood and Guy of Gisbourne (Some Merry 
Adventures of Robin Hood). 

Seton, Ernest Thompson : Monarch, the Big Bear of Tallac. 

Stockton, Frank R. : Old Pipes and the Dryad (Lyman : Story- 
Telling, What to Tell and How to Tell U). 

May 

Baldwin, James : The Man Whose Eye Was Open (Old Stories of the 
East) ; La Salle (The Discovery of the Old Northwest) ; Ogier and 
Roland Knighted, How Ogier Won Sword and Horse, A Roland 
for an Oliver (The Story of Roland). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap : How a Boy Saved Lucerne, The Duty 
That Wasn't Paid. 

Olcott, F. J. : The Legend of the Spring Beauty, The Fairy Tulips, 
Two Hero Stories of the Civil War (Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Pyle, Howard : The Death of Robin Hood (Some Merry Adventures 
of Robin Hood). 

June 

Baldwin, James : How Ogier Refused a KLingdom (The Story of Ro- 
land) ; William Tell (Fifty Famous Stories Retold) ; The Heroine of 
Fort Henry (American Book of Golden Deeds). 

Brooks, E. S. : William the Conqueror (Historic Boys). 



360 Educating by Story-Telling 

Cabot, Ella Lyman : Margaret of New Orleans (Ethics for Children). 
Gather, Katherine Dltnlap : The Luck Boat of Lake Geneva. 
Olcott, F. J. : General Scott and the Stars and Stripes (Good Stories 

for Great Holidays). 
Sly, W. J. : Betsy Ross and the Flag (World Stories Retold). 

Sixth Grade 

September 

Brown, Abbie F. : The Giant Builder (In the Days of Giants). 
Cabot, Ella Lyman : David and Jonathan (Ethics for Children). 
JuDD, M. C. : The Legend of Niagara Falls (Wigwam Stories). 
Kipling, Rudyard: Weland's Sword (Puck of Pook's Hill). 
Lang, Jeanie : The Story of General Gordon. 
Olcott, F. J. : Bill Brown's Test, The Speaking Statue, The Champion 

Stone Cutter (Good Stories for Great Holidays). 
Ragozin, Z. a. : Beowulf Comes to Daneland (Siegfried and Beowulf). 
Rhead, J. S. : The Story of the Fisherman (Arabian Nights). 
Tolstoi, Leo : Truth is Mighty and Will Prevail (Cabot : Ethics for 

Children). 

October 

Grimm, Jacob: The Godfather (German Household Tales). 

Harris, J. C. : Brer Rabbit Takes Exercise (Nights with Uncle Remus). 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel: Pandora (Wonder-Book). 

Irving, Washington: The Discovery of Land (Life of Christopher 

Columbus). 
Perry, E. L., and Beebe, Katherine: George Rogers Clark (Four 

American Pioneers). 
Ragozin, Z. A. : The Combat with Grendel (Siegfried and Beowulf). 
Rhead, J. S. : Abou Mohammed the Lazy (Arabian Nights). 
Tolstoi, Leo: Where Love Is, There God Is Also (Cabot: Ethics for 

Children). 
All Hallow Eve Myths (Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas). 
For additional Columbus Day material see "The Son of Columbus" 

by Mollie EUiot Seawell. 

November 

Bradley, Will: Hans the Wise, Nip and Tuck (The Wonder Box). 
Brown, Abbie F. : The Magic Apples (In the Days of Giants). 
Harris, J. C. : Brer Wolf Says Grace (Nights with Uncle Remus). 



stories for the Sixth Grade 361 

Olcott, F. J. : The Ears of Wheat, How Indian Corn Came into 

the World {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 
PuMPHREY, M. B. : Samoset, The Treaty of Peace, The Little Captives 

(Pilgrim Stories). 
Ragozin, Z. a. : Grendel Avenged, Beowulf Returns to His Own 

Land (Siegfried and Beowulf). 
Rhead, J. S. : Abou Hassan the Wag (Arabian Nights). 

December 

Dickens, Charles : Christmas at Fezziwig's Weirehouse (Schauffler : 
Christmas). 

Dyer, Walter : The Baby Camel That Walked to Jesus. 

Lagerlof, Selma : The Holy Night (Christ Legends). 

Pumphrey, M. B. : The Christmas Candle (Pilgrim Stories). 

Ragozin, Z. A. : Beowulf's Victory and Death (Siegfried and Beowulf). 

Rice, Alice Hegan: Betty's Best Christmas (St. Nicholas, Decem- 
ber, 1916). 

Skinner, Charles M. : The Legend of the Mountain Ash (Myths of 
Plants, Trees, and Flowers). 

Tolstoi, Leo : Evil Allures but Good Endures (Cabot : Ethics for 
Children). 

Walsh, K. : St. Nicholas and the Slave Boy (The Story of Santa Claus). 

January 

Bradley, Will: Snip and Stitch (The Wonder Box). 

Cabot, Ella Lyman: A Lesson for Kings (Ethics for Children). 

Eggleston, Edward : The Troublesome Burglars (Strange Stories 

from History). 
JuDD, M. C. : How Indians Came to Know Medicine Plants (Wigwam 

Stories). 
MacLeod, R. : A Great Feast and a Great Battle, The Marriage of 

Guinevere and Arthur and the Founding of the Round Table 

(King Arthur and His Noble Knights). 
Sly, W. R. : The Golden Scepter in the Palace of the Lily (World 

Stories Retold). 
Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : A New Year's Talk (Days and Deeds). 
Stone, G. L. : The Legend of the Oak (Trees in Prose and Poetry). 
A Chinese New Year in California (Our Holidays Retold from St. 

Nicholas). 
A Spanish Tale (Fairy Stories Retold from St. Nicholas). 



362 Educating by Story-Telling 

February 

Brooks, E. S. : The Clary Grove Boys (Abraham Lincoln). 

Eggleston, Edward : Young Washington in the Woods, How a Scul- 
lion Became a Sculptor (Strange Stories from History). 

Gallagher, J. E. : Lincoln's Good Memory of Names (Best Lincoln 
Stories). 

MacLeod, R. : King Arthur and Sir Accalon, How King Arthur 
Fought with a Giant (King Arthur and His Noble Knights). 

MooRE, Charles W. : Lincoln and the Unjust Client (Abraham 
Lincoln). 

Olcott, F. J. : Washington at Yorktown (Good Stories for Great Holi- 
days). 

March 

Baldwin, James: King Richard and Blonde! (Thirty More Famous 

Stories). 
Bradley, Will: The Master Makes a Beu-gain (The Wonder Box). 
Eggleston, Edward : The Prince Who Could Not Stay Dead (Strange 

Stories from History). 
Hauff, Wilhelm: The Peddler and the Powder (Caravan Tales). 
Holland, R. S. : Daniel Boone (Historic Boyhoods). 
MacLeod, R. : Sir Brune, Sir Ivaine (King Arthur and His Noble 

Knights). 
Marden, O. S. : How the Children Saved Hamburg (Winning Out). 
Price, L. L. : Abraham and Isaac (Wandering Heroes). 

April 

Baldwin, James: As Rich as Croesus (Thirty More Famous Stories). 
Brown, Abbie F. : Saint Kentigern and the Robin (Book of Saints 

and Friendly Beasts). 
Dickens, Charles : A Child's Dream of a Star (Olcott : Good Stories 

for Great Holidays). 
Eggleston, Edward : The Story of Catherine (Strange Stories from 

History). 
Hauff, Wilhelm: The Mystic Word (Caravan Tales). 
Holland, R. S. : Lafayette, the Boy of Versailles (Historic Boyhoods). 
MacLeod, R. : Sir Balin, Sir Gareth the Kitchen Boy (King Arthur 

and His Noble Knights). 
Price, L. L. : Joseph (Wandering Heroes). 



stories for the Seventh Grade 363 

May 

Andersen, H. C. : The Daisy {Wonder Stories Told to Children). 
Eggleston, EIdward : The Sad Story of a Boy King (Strange Stories 

from History). 
Gilbert, Ariadne : Beloved of Men and Dogs {More than Conquerors). 
Hauff, Wilhelm: The Captive Owl {Caravan Tales). 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel: The Pomegranate Seeds {Tanglewood Tales). 
MacLeod, R. : Sir Launcelot and His Friends, Sir Tristram, How 

Sir Tristratm Came to Camelot {King Arthur and His Noble 

Knights). 
Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : The Origin of Memorial Day {Days and 

Deeds). 

June 

Baldwin, James: Webster and the Woodchuck {Thirty More Famous 
Stories) ; Corneha's Jewels {Fifty Famous Stories). 

Hauff, Wilhelm: The Hall of Sorcerers (Caravan Tales). 

Jordan, David Starr : The Story of a Salmon. 

JuDSON, Katharine B. : Why the Sierra Nevada is Higher than the 

f Coast Range (Myths of California and the Old Southwest). 

MacLeod, R. : The Quest of the Holy Grail, The Death of King 
Arthur (King Arthur and His Noble Knights). 

Price, L. L. : Moses (Wandering Heroes). 



Seventh Grade 

September 

Austin, Mary : The Basket Woman. 

Bradish, Sarah P. : Sigmund Wins the Sword (Old Norse Stories). 

Brown, Abbie F. : St. Bridget and the King's Wolf (Book of Saints 
and Friendly Beasts). 

Cabot, Ella Lyman : The Risks of a Fireman's Life (Ethics for Chil- 
dren) . 

Marden, O. S. : The Blacksmith's Boy (Winning Out). 

Price, L. L. : Prince Sidd^rtha (Wandering Heroes). 

Rhead, J. S. : The Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor (Arabian Nights). 

Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : History of Labor Day (Days and Deeds). 

Warman, Cy: Jack Farley's Flying Switch (Short Rails). 



364 Educating by Story-Telling 

October 

Bradish, Sarah P. : Sigmund and Sinfiotli, The Death of Sigmund 

(Old Norse Heroes). 
HoLiAND, R. S. : Peter the Great, the Boy of the Kj-emlin (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
Moore, Charles W. : In Seeirch of the Grand Khan, The Garden of 

Eden (Christopher Columbus). 
PwcE, L. L. : The First Battle of Cyrus the Great (Wandering Heroes). 
Rhead, J. S. : Coga Hassan (Arabian Nights). 

Stevenson, R. L. : Black Andie's Tale of Tod Lapraik (David Balfour). 
Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : The History of Hallowe'en. 

November 

Abbott, J. S. C. : The Humanity and Self-Denial of Miles Standish. 

The Visit of Samoset (Miles Standish). 
Balx>win, James: John Gutenberg and the Voices, The First Printer 

(Thirty More Famous Stories). 
Bradish, Sarah P. : Regin's Story, Forging the Sword (Old Norse 

Heroes). 
Gather, Katherine Dunlap : Jacopo, the Little Dyer (Boyhood 

Stories of Famous Men). 
Holland, R. S. : Frederick the Great, the Boy of Potsdam (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
Price, L. L. : The Khan of the Silver Crown (Wandering Heroes). 

December 

Austin, Mary : The Christmas Tree (The Basket Woman). 
Bradish, Sarah P. : Brynhild (Old Norse Heroes). 
Lagerlof, Selma: The Wise Men's Well (Christ Legends). 
Olcott, F. J. : The Three Kings of Cologne (Good Stories for Great 

Holidays). 
Rhead, J. S. : Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp (Arabian Nights). 
Richards, Laura E. : Tomorrow (The Golden Windows). 
Walsh, K. : St. Nicholas and the Three Purses (The Story of Santa 

Claus). 
WiGGiN, K. D. : The Ruggles' Christmas Dinner (The Birds' Christmas 

Carol). 

January 

Baldwin, James: King John and Prince Arthur (Thirty More Famous 
Stories). 



Stories for the Seventh Grade 365 

BouTET DE MoNVEL, L. M. : The Story of Joan of Arc {Joan of Arc). 

Bradish, Sarah P. : Sigurd and the Niblungs, The Wooing of Bryn- 
hild, The Death of Sigurd (Old Norse Stories). 

Holland, R. S. : John Paul Jones, the Boy of the Atlantic {Historic 
Boyhoods). 

Lagerlof, Selma : The Animals' New Year's Eve {The Further Adven- 
tures of Nils). 

Olcott, F. J.: The Twelve Months {Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Price, L. L. : Clovis the Frank {Wandering Heroes). 

Rhead, J. S. : Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves {Arabian Nights). 

February 

Baldwin, James: King John and the Magna Cheirta {Thirty More 
Famous Stories). .^ 

Drake, S. A. : The Washington Elm {New England Legends). 

Gilbert, Ariadne : The Matterhorn of Men {More than Conquerors). 

Holland, R. S. : Mozart the Boy of Salzburg, George Washington 
the Boy of the Old Dominion {Historic Boyhoods). 

Lodge, Henry Cabot : He Resigns His Commission {George Wash- 
ington, Vol. I, page 338). 

Olcott, F. J. : The Courage of His Convictions {Good Stories for Great 
Holidays). 

Price, L. L. : The Dwarf of Attila the Hun {Wandering Heroes). 

ScHAUFFL"ER, R. H. : Anecdotes and Stories {Washington's Birthday). 

Tappan, Eva M. : A Winter at Valley Forge {American Hero Stories). 

Whipple, Wayne : Lincoln's First Dollar, A Feat of Mercy and 
Strength {The Story Life of Lincoln). 

March 

Baldwin, James: Frederick Barbarossa {Thirty More Famous Stories). 
Brown, Abbie F. : Saint Wartburg and Her Goose {Book of Saints 

and Friendly Beasts). 
Gilbert, Ariadne : Beethoven, the Blind Musician {More than 

Conquerors). 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel: The Liberty Tree {Grandfather's Chair). 
Jacobs, Joseph: The Dream of Owen Mulready {More Celtic Fairy 

Tales). 
Price, L. L. : The Saga of the Land of Grapes {Wandering Heroes). 
Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : What Easter Is {Days and Deeds). 
Wiggin, K. D., and Smith, Nora A. : The Lion, the Fox, and the 

Story-Teller {Talking Beast Fables from India). 



366 Educating by Story-Telling 

April 

AusTEV, Mary: The Merry-go-Round (The Basket Woman). 

Baldwin, James: The Man in the Iron Mask {Thirty More Famous 
Stories). 

Brown, Abbie F. : Gerasimus and the Lion {Book of Saints and Friendly 
Beasts). 

Burroughs, John: The Downy Woodpecker {Bird Stories). 

Harris, J. C. : Why the Hawk Catches Chickens {Uncle Remus and 
His Friends). 

Holland, R. S. : Horatio Nelson, the Boy of the Channel Fleet (His- 
toric Boyhoods). 

Jacobs, Joseph : Jack, the Cunning Thief {More Celtic Fairy Tales). 

KoROLENKO, Z. : The Procession of Passion Week in Seville {The Book 
of Easter). 

Price, L. L. : Godwin and Knut (Wandering Heroes). 

Seton, Ernest Thompson : Arnaux, the Chronicle of a Homing 
Pigeon {Animal Heroes). 

May 

Austin, Mary: The Coyote Spirit and the Weaving Woman {The 

Basket Woman). 
Baldwin, James : Hannibal, the Boy of Carthage {Thirty More Famous 

Stories). 
Dyer, Walter A. : The Opening of the Eyes of Jasper {The Richer Life). 
Harris, J. C. : Brer Bear and the Honey {Uncle Remus and His 

Friends). 
Hawthorne, Nathaiviel: The May Pole at Merry Mount {Twice 

Told Tales). 
Holland, R. S. : Robert Fulton, the Boy of Conestoga {Historic Boy- 
hoods). 
Lansing, M. F. : Godfrey, a Knight of the Crusades {Page, Esquire, 

and Knight). 
Partridge, E. N. and G. E. : The Boy Abraham {Story-Telling in the 

Home and School). 
ScuDDER, Horace E. : The Monk and the Bird (Lyman : Story-Telling : 

What to Tell and How to Tell It). 

June 

Baldwin, James: Friar Bacon and the Brazen Head {Thirty More 

Famous Stories). 
Gilbert, Ariadne : The Star Showers Baby {More than Conquerors). 



Slories for the Eighth Grade 367 

Harris, J. C. : Why Brer Bull Growls and Grumbles {Uncle Remus and 

His Friends). 
Holland, R. S. : Andrew Jackson, the Boy of the Carolinas {Historic 

Boyhoods). 
Jordan, David Starr : Agassiz at Penikese, A Cuban Fisherman, 

How the Trout Came to Cahfornia, The Story of a Strange Land, 

The Fate of Icodorum {Science Stories). 
Lansing, M. F. : St. George and the Dragon {Page, Esquire, and 

Knight). 
Phelps, E. S. : David and Jonathan {David and Jonathan). 
Sly, W. R. : The Heroine of Gettysburg, The Man Who Wrote 

" America," Jenny Lind, Singer {World Slories Retold). 
The Story of the Star-Spangled Banner {St. Nicholas, June, 1914). 

Eighth Grade 

September 

Brooks, E. S. : Helena of Britain {Historic Girls). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap : The Boy of Cadore, The Joyous Vaga- 
bond {Boyhood Slories of Famous Men). 

Chapin, Anna Alice: Parsifal, a Knight of the Grail {The Story of 
Parsifal). 

Dyer, Walter A. : The Vision of Anton the Clockmaker {The Richer 
Life). 

Holland, R. S. : Napoleon Bonaparte {Historic Boyhoods). 

MacManus, Seumas : Billy Beg and His Bull {In Chimney Corners). 

Renninger, E. D. : Rustem, the Wonder Child, Rustem, the Young 
Warrior {The Story of Rustem). 

October 

Dickens, Charles: The Speaking Rat {The Uncommercial Traveller). 

Irving, Washington : The First Landing of Columbus in the New 
World, The Building of the Fortress La Navidad, Reception of 
Columbus by the Spanish Court at Barcelona, Columbus and His 
Brothers Arrested and Sent to Spain, The Death of Columbus 
{Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus) ; The Devil and 
Tom Walker {Tales of a Traveller). 

Renninger, E. D. : The Seven Labors of Rustem, Rustem the PehHva 
{The Story of Rustem). (Omit the romance in this last tale.) 

Stevenson, R. L. : The Bottle Imp {Island Nights' Entertainments). 



368 Educating by Story-Telling 

November 

Abbott, J. S. C. : The Mother of Kidnapped Indians, The Search for 
Corn, The Shipwrecked Frenchmen (Miles Siandish). 

Gather, Katherine Dxjnlap : When Mozart Raced with Marie An- 
toinette (Boyhood Stories of Famous Men). 

Renninger, E. D. : Sohrab and the Youth (The Story of Rustem). 

ScHAUFFLER, R. H. : The Thanksgiving Guest, Two Notable Thanks- 
givings (Thanksgiving). 

ScuDDER, Horace E. : The Flying Dutchman, King Cophetua and the 
Beggar, The Image and the Treasure (Book of Legends). 

December 

Boutet de Monvel, L. M. : The Girlhood of Joan of Arc and the 
Call of the Voices, Attack and Delivery of Orleans (The Story of 
Joan of Arc). 

Brooks, E. S. : Edith of Scotland (Historic Girls). 

Harte, Bret : How Santa Claus Came to Simpson's Bar (The Luck of 
Roaring Camp). 

Hugo, Victor: Cosette (Les Miserables). 

MacManus, Seumas : Shan Beth and Ned Flyn (In Chimney Corners). 

Olcott, F. J. : The Christmas Fairy of Strasburg (Good Stories for 
Great Holidays). 

Renninger, E. D. : The Wrath of Rustem, Combat of Sohrab agadnst 
Rustem (The Story of Rustem). 

Stockton, Frank R. : The Christmas Truants (Fanciful Tales). 

Van Dyke, Henry: The Mansion (The Mansion) ; The First Christ- 
mas Tree (The First Christmas Tree) ; The Other Wise Man (The 
Other Wise Man). 

Waxxace, Lew: The Journey of the Magi (Ben Hur). 

January 

Church, Alfred J. : The Adventure of Ulysses with the Cyclops, 
The Home of the Winds and the Palace of Circe, The Sirens, 
Scylla and Charybdis, What Happened in Ithaca, An Island 
Prison, A Princess Washing Clothes, Ulysses at Home (Odyssey 
for Boys and Girls). 

Guerber, H. a. : Charlemagne Blessing the Vineyards (Legends of the 
Rhine. Use also the poem, The Silver Bridge, in the same book). 

Sly, W. R. : Horatius at the Bridge (World Stories Retold. Use 
also Macaulay's poem). 



stories for the Eighth Grade 369 

February 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap: A Shepherd Lad of Tuscany, The 
Light of Guide's Lamp, A Bit o' Pink Verbena (Boyhood Stories 
of Famous Men). 

HiGGiNSON, T. W. : The Story of Atlantis, Taliessin of the Radiant 
Bow (Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the Atlantic). 

Holland, R.-S. : James Fenimore Cooper (Historic Boyhoods). 

Lodge, Henry Cabot : The British at Mount Vernon (George Wash- 
ington, Vol. I, page 295) ; Washington Offered the Supreme 
Power (George Washington, Vol. L page 328). 

Olcott, F. J. : Training for the Presidency, George Picket's Friend 
(Good Stories for Great Holidays). 

Rhead, J. S. : Adventures of Haroun al Raschid (Arabian Nights). 

Stockton, Frank R. : The Clocks of Rondaine (Fanciful Tales). 

March 

Baldwin, James: Eureka (Thirty More Famous Stories). 

BouTET DE Monvel, L. M. : Joan's Trial and Death (Joan of Arc). 

Brooks, E. S. : Woo of Hwang Ho (Historic Girls). 

Cabot, Ella L. : Florence Nightingale (Ethics for Children). 

Holland, R. S. : John Ericsson, the Boy of the Gotha Canal (His- 
toric Boyhoods). 

KoROLENKO, Z. : Easter Eve (The Book of Easter). 

Renninger, E. D. : How Rustem Trained Saiwush and Avenged 
Him, The Later Feats of Rustem (The Story of Rustem). 

Stevenson, Mrs. E. S. : What Easter Is (Days and Deeds). 

April 

Brooks, E. S. : Christina of Sweden (Historic Girls). 

Burroughs, John: The House Wren, The Screech Owl, The Song 

Sparrow (Bird Stories). 
Gould, F. J. : Why the Romans Bore Pain, The Second Founder of 

Rome (The Children s Plutarch). 
HiGGiNSON, T. W. : The Swan Children of Lir, Usheen in the Island 

of Youth, Bran the Blessed (Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the 

Atlantic). 
Holland, R. S. : Garibaldi, the Boy of the Mediterranean (Historic 

Boyhoods). 
Lansing, M. F, : Chevalier Bayard (Page, Esquire, and Knight). 



370 Educating by Story-Telling 

MacManus, Seumas : Rory the Robber {In Chimney Corners). 
Renninger, E. D. : The Story of Isfendiyar, The Death of Rustem 
{The Story of Rustem). 

May 

Austin, Mary : The Stream That Ran Away (Olcott : Good Stories 
for Great Holidays). 

Cabot, Ella L. : The Fight against Yellow Fever {Ethics for 
Children). 

Gather, Katherine Dunlap : The Tomboy from Bordeaux {Boy- 
hood Stories of Famous Men). 

Gilbert, Ariadne : Through Failure to Success {More than Conquerors). 

Gould, F. J. : The Man Who Waited {The Children s Plutarch). 

HiGGiNSON, T. W. : The Castle of the Active Door, Maeldun's Voyage, 
The Voyage of St. Brandon, Harald the Viking {Tales of the En- 
chanted Islands of the Atlantic). 

Holland, R. S. : Charles Dickens, the Boy of the London Streets 
{Historic Boyhoods). 

Wilson, C. D. : How Rodrigo Was Knighted and Received the Name 
of Cid, The Banishment of the Cid {The Story of the Cid). 

June 

Brown, Abbie F. : Kenneth and the Gulls {Book of Saints and 

Friendly Beasts). 
Cabot, Ella L. : Sister Dora {Ethics for Children). 
Daudet, Alphonse : The Last Lesson (Bryant : How to Tell Stories 

to Children). 
Gould, F. J. : How a Woman Saved Rome, A Roman Undismayed 

{The Children s Plutarch). 
HiGGiNSON, T. W. : The Search for Norumbega, Rimini and the 

Fountain of Youth {Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the Atlantic). 
JuDSON, K. B. : Why Grizzly Bear Goes on All Fours {Myths of Cali- 
fornia and the Old Southwest). 
Lodge, H. C, and Roosevelt, T. : Remember the Alamo, The Flag 

Bearer {Frontier Towns). 
MacManus, Seumas: Jack and the King Who Was a Gentleman 

{In Chimney Corners). 
Tappan, Eva M. : Israel Putnam {American Hero Stories). 
Wilson, C. D. : The Cid's Successors in the Land of the Moors, The 

Cid Returns Aid to the King {The Story of the Cid). 



COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY 



COMPLETE BIBLIOGRAPHY 

A.BBOTT, Jacob : Life of Genghis Khan. Harper & Brothers. 
Abbott, John Stevens Cabot: Miles Slandish. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
Abbott, Lyman : Life and Literature of the Ancient Hebrews. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 
Adams, William: Fables and Rhymes — j^sop and Mother Goose. 

American Book Co. 
Aguilar, Grace : The Women of Israel. D. Appleton & Co. 
Alden, Raymond Macdonald: Why the Chimes Rang. Bobbs- 

Merrill Co. 
Allison, S. B., and Perdue, H. A. : The Story in Primary Instruction. 

A. Flanagan Co. 
Andersen, Hans Christian : Wonder Stories Told for Children. 

Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Anderson, Rasmus Bjorn: The Younger Edda. Scott, Foresman 

& Co. 
Antin, Mary : The Promised Land. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Arnold, Sara Louise, and Gilbert, Charles : Stepping Stones to 

Literature — Book 3. Silver, Burdett & Co. 
Asbj0rnsen, Peter Christen : Fairy Tales from the Far North. 
A. L. Burt Co. 
The Fairy World. De Wolfe & Fiske Co. 
Austin, Mary : The Basket Woman. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Bacon, Mary Schell Hoke : Pictures That Every Child Should Know. 

Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin : Firelight Stories. Milton Bradley Co. 
For the Story-Teller. Milton Bradley Co. 
Stories and Rhymes for the Child. Milton Bradley Co. 
Story-Telling Time. Milton Bradley Co. 
Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin, and Lewis, Clara M. : For the Children's 

Hour. Milton Bradley Co. 
Baldwin, James : American Book of Golden Deeds. American Book Co. 
Discovery of the Old Northwest. American Book Co. 
Fifty Famous People. American Book Co. 
Fifty Famous Stories Retold. American Book Co. 
Hero Tales Told in School. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Old Stories of the East. American Book Co. 
Second Fairy Reader. American Book Co. 
Story of Roland. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Thirty More Famous Stories. American Book Co. 
Ballard, Susan : Fairy Tales from Old Japan. Fleming H. Revell Co, 

373 



374 Educating by Story-Telling 

Baring-Gould, Sabine: Lives of the Saints. 16 volumes. F. A. 

Stokes Co. 
Barrie, James: Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. Charles Scrib- 

ner's Sons. 
Beard, James Carter: Humor in Animals. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 
Becquer, Gustavo Adolfo: Romantic Legends of Spain. T. Y. 

Crowell Co. 
Bell, Florence Eveleen: Fairy Tale Plays. Longmans, Green 

&Co. 
Bergen, Fanny Dickerson : Glimpses at the Plant World. Ginn 

&Co. 
Blakewell, S. E. : True Bird Stories. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Blumenthal, Verra X. K. de : Folk Tales from the Russian. Rand- 

McNally Co. 
Bolton, Sarah K. : Famous Leaders among Men. T. Y. Crowell Co. 

Lives of Poor Boys Who Became Famous. T. Y. Crowell Co. 
Boutet de Monvel, L. M. : The Story of Joan of Arc. Century Co. 
Boyesen, Hjalmar Hjorth : Modern Vikings. Charles Scribner's 

Sons. 
Brabourne, Edward Knatchbull-Hugessen, Lord: River Legends. 

E. P. Dutton & Co. 
Bradish, Sarah Powers: Old Norse Stories. American Book Com- 
pany. 
Bradley, Will: The Wonder Box. Century Co. 
Brooks, Elbridge S. : Abraham Lincoln. De Wolfe & Fiske Co. 
Historic Boys. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 
Historic Girls. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 
Brown, Abbie Farwell : Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts. Hough- 
ton Mifflin Co. 
In the Days of Giants. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Brown, Abbie Farwell, and Bell, James M. : Tales of the Red 

Children. D. Appleton & Co. 
Browning, Robert: Poems. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Bryant, Sara Cone : How to Tell Stories to Children. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 
Stories to Tell to Children. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Bryant, William Cullen : Poems. D. Appleton & Co. 
Bryce, Catherine Turner : Fables from Afar. Newson & Co. 

That's Why Stories. Newson & Co. 
BuELL, Augustus C. : John Paul Jones, Founder of the American 

Navy. 2 volumes. Charles Scribner's Sons. 



Complete Bibliography 375 

BuLFiNCH, Thomas : The Age of Fable. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
BuNCE, John Thackray: Fairy Tales: Their Origin and Meaning. 

Macmiilan Co. 
Burgess, Thornton W. : Bed-lime Stories. Little, Brown & Co. 
BuRNHAM, Maud : Descriptive Stories for All the Year. Milton Brad- 
ley Co. 
Burroughs, John : Bird Stories. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Squirrels and Other Fur-bearers. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Cabot, Ella Lyman : Ethics for Children. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Canton, William : A Child's Book of Saints. E. P. Dutton & Co. 
Cary, Alice : Poems. Hurst & Co. 

Cather, Katherine Dunlap: Boyhood Stories of Famous Men. 
Century Co. 
Pan and His Pipes and Other Stories. Victor Talking Machine Co. 
Chadwick, Mara L. Pratt-, and Freeman, E. Gray : Chain Stories 

and Playlets. World Book Co. 
Chapin, Anna Alice : Makers of Song. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
Masters of Music. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
The Heart of Music. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
The Story of Parsival. Harper & Brothers. 
The Story of the Rhinegold. Harper & Brothers. 
Chodzko, Alexander D. B. : Slav Fairy Tales. A. L. Burt & Co. 
Chubb, Percival: Festivals and Plays. Harper & Brothers. 
Church, Alfred John : Odyssey for Boys and Girls. Macmiilan Co. 
Clinch, George : Costume from Prehistoric Times to End of Eight- 
eenth' Century. A. C. McClurg & Co. 
CoE, Fanny E. : First Book of Stories for the Story-Teller. Houghton 
Mifflin Co. 
Heroes of Everyday Life. Ginn & Co. 
Collins, Archie F. : The Book of Stars. D. Appleton & Co. 
Comstock, John Henry : Insect Life. D. Appleton & Co. 
Converse, Harriet Clarke : Myths and Legends of New York Stale. 

N. Y. State Education Department, 1908. 
Cooke, Flora J. : Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children. A 

Flanagan Co. 
CowLES, Julia Darrow : The Art of Story-Telling. A. C. McClurg 

& Co. '1 
Creighton, Louise von Glehn: Some Famous Women. Longmans, 

Green & Co. 
Croker, Thomas Crofton : Fairy Legends and Traditions of Ireland. 
P. J. Kennedy & Sons. 



376 Educating by Story-Telling 

Crowest, Frederick James : Life of Verdi. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
CuRTiN, Jeremiah: Myths and Folk Tales of the Russians, Western 

Slavs, and Magyars. Little, Brown & Co. 
Curtis, Elnora W. : The Dramatic Instinct in Education. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 
Dana, James Dwight : The Geological Story Briefly Told. American 

Book Co. 
Dasent, Walter : Popular Tales from the North. G. P. Putnam's 

Sons, 
Davis, Mary H., and Chow-Leung : Chinese Fables and Folk Stories. 

American Book Co. 
Dearmer, Mabel : A Child's Life of Christ. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
De la Ram^e, Louise : Bimbi and Other Stories. Ginn & Co. 
Dickens, Charles : David Copperfield. 
Nicholas Nickleby. 
Old Curiosity Shop. 
The Christmas Carol. 
The Uncommercial Traveller. 
Dickinson, Asa D., and Skinner, Ada M. : Children's Book of Christ- 
mas Stories. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Dillingham, Elizabeth T., and Emerson, Adelle P. : " Tell It 

Again" Stories. Ginn & Co. 
DoANE, T. W. : Bible Myths. Commonwealth Co. 
Dole, Nathan Haskell: A Score of Famous Composers. T. Y. 

Crowell Co. 
Drake, Samuel Adams: New England Legends. Little, Brown & 

Co. 
Du Chaillu, Paul B. : The World of the Great Forest. Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons. 
Dumas, Alexandre, Sand, George, and Others : Black Diamonds. 

Harper & Brothers. 
Golden Fairy Book. A. L. Burt Co. 
Dye, Charity: The Story-Teller's Art. Ginn & Co. 
Dyer, Walter A. : The Richer Life. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Eastman, Charles A. : Indian Boyhood. Doubleday, Page & Co. 

Old Indian Days. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Eastman, Charles A. and Elaine : Smoky Day's Wigwam Evenings. 

Little, Brown & Co. 
Wigwam Evenings. Little, Brown & Co. 
Edwards, Charles Lincoln : Bahama Songs and Stories. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 



Complete Bibliography 377 



Eggleston, George Gary : Strange Stories from History for Young 

People. Harper & Brothers. 
Eliot, George : Silas Marner. 

The Mill on the Floss. 
English, Thomas Dunn: Fairy Stories and Wonder Tales. Hurst 

& Co. 
Ennis, Luna May : Music in Art. L. C. Page & Go. 
Fabre, J. Henri : Insect Adventures. World Book Go. 
The Hunting Wasps. Dodd, Mead & Go. 
The Life of a Caterpillar. Dodd, Mead & Go. 
The Life of a Fly. Dodd, Mead & Go. 
The Mason Bees. Dodd, Mead & Go. 
Farmer, Florence V. : Boy and Girl Heroes. Macmillan Go. 
FiSKE, John: Myths and Myth Makers. Houghton Mifflin Go. 
The Great Epic of Israel. Houghton Mifflin Go. 
The Myths of Israel. Houghton Mifflin Go. 
Flagg, Wilson : A Year with the Birds. Educational Publishing Go. 
FoA, Madame Eugenie : Boy Life of Napoleon. Lothrop, Lee & 

Shepard Go. 
FoRBUSH, William Byron : Manual of Stories. American Institute 

of Ghild Life. 
FoRTiER, Alcee : Louisiana Folk Talcs. Houghton Mifflin Go. 
Foster, Mary H., and Gummings, Mabel H. : Asgard Stories. Silver, 

Burdett & Go. 
Fryberger, Agnes : Listening Lessons in Music. Silver, Burdett 

&Go. 
Frye, Alexis Everett : Brooks and Brook Basins. Ginn & Go. 
Gallagher, James E. : Best Lincoln Stories. M. A. Donohue & Go. 
Gatty, Margaret : Parables from Nature. E. P. Dutton & Go. 
Gilbert, Ariadne : More than Conquerors. Gentury Go. 
Gilchrist, Beth Bradford : Life of Mary Lyon. Houghton Mifflin 

Go. 
Goldenberg, Samuel L. : Lace, Its Origin and History. Brentano's. 
Gould, Frederick James: The Children's Plutarch. Harper & 

Brothers. 
Graves, Alfred Perceval : The Irish Fairy Book. F. A. Stokes Go. 
Grierson, E. W. : Book of Celtic Stories. Macmillan Go. 

Tales from Scottish Ballads. MacmiUan Go. 
Griffis, William Elliot: The Unmannerly Tiger and Other Korean 

Tales. T. Y. Growell Go. 
Grimm, Jacob : German Household Tales. Houghton Mifflin Go. 



378 Educating by Story-Telling 

Grinnell, Elizabeth and Joseph : Birds of Song and Story. A. W. 
Mumford. 
Neighbors of Field, Wood, and Stream. F. A. Stokes Co. 
Groos, Karl: The Play of Animals. D. Appleton & Co. 
Gross, H. : Lincoln's Own Stories. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
GuERBER, Helens A. : Legends of Switzerland. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
Legends of the Middle Ages. American Book Co. 
Legends of the Rhine. A. S. Barnes Co. 
Stories of the Wagner Operas. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
Story of the English. American Book Co. 
Story of Modern France. American Book Co. 
Story of Old France. American Book Co. 
Haight, Rachel Webb : Index of Fairy Tales. Boston Book Co. 
Hall, I. Freeman, and Lennox, Elizabeth D. : Red Letter Days. 

Silver, Burdett & Co. 
Hardy, Mary H. : Indian Legends from Geyser Land. Rand-Mc- 

NaUy & Co. 
Harris, F. J. : Plays for Young People. Castle Co., London. 
Harris, Joel Chandler: Little Mr. Thimblejinger. Houghton 
Mifflin Co. 
Nights with Uncle Remus. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Plantation Pageants. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Uncle Remus and His Friends. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Harrison, Elizabeth : In Story-land. Central Publishing Co. 
Hart, Albert B., and Stevens, Elizabeth : Romance of the Civil 

War. Macmillan Co. 
Harte, Bret : The Luck of Roaring Camp. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Hartland, E. Sidney: The Science of Fairy Tales. Charles Scrib- 

ner's Sons. 
Hartmann, Sadakichi : Japanese Art. L. C. Page & Co. 
Hasbrouck, Louise S. : Fabre's Insect Adventures. World Book Co. 
Hauff, Wilhelm: Caravan Tales. (Arabian Days' Entertainments). 

Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Ha wkes, Clarence : Shovelhorns: the Biography of a Moose. George 

W. Jacobs Co. 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel: Grandfather s Chair. 
Tanglewood Tales. 
Twice Told Tales. 
Hearn, Lafcadio : Kwaidan. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Heber, Elizabeth, and Garfield, Grace : A Child's Story Garden. 
Scott-Miller Press, Indianapolis. ''\ 



Complete Bibliography 379 

Hensel, Sebastian : History of the Mendelssohn Family. 2 volumes. 

Harper & Brothers. 
HiGGiNsoN, Thomas Wentworth: American Explorers. Longmans, 
Green & Co. 

Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the Atlantic. Macmillan Co. 
Hodges, George : A Child's Guide to the Bible. Baker & Taylor Co. 
HoLBROOK, Florence : Book of Nature Myths. Houghton Mifflin Co. 

Round the Year in Myth and Song. American Book Co. 
Holder, Charles F. : Stories of Animal Life. American Book Co. 
Holland, Rupert Sargent : Historic Boyhoods. George W. Jacobs Co, 
Houghton, Louise Seymour : Hebrew Life and Thought. University 
of Chicago Press. 

Telling Bible Stories. Charles Scribner's Sons. 

The Bible in Picture and Story. American Tract Co. 
Hourticq, Louis : Art in France. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
HowELLS, William Dean : Christmas Every Day. Harper & Brothers. 
Hoxie, Jane : A Kindergarten Story Book. Milton Bradley Co. 
Hugo, Victor: Les Miserables. 2 volumes. M. A. Donohue & Co. 
HuRLL, Estelle M. : Child Life in Art. L. C. Page & Co. 

The Madonna in Art. L. C. Page & Co. 
Ingersoll, Ernest: Wild Life of Orchard and Field. Harper & 

Brothers. 
Irving, Washington: Tales from the Alhambra. Ginn & Co. 

The Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus. A. L. Burt Co. 

The Sketch Book. A. L. Burt Co. 
Jackson, E. : History of Hand-Made Lace. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Jacobs, Joseph : Celtic Fairy Tales. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 

English Fairy Tales. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 

Europa's Fairy Book. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 

More Celtic Fairy Tales. G. P. Putnam's Sons. 
Johnson, Clifton : Oak Tree Stories. Little, Brown & Co. 
Johonnot, James : Ten Great Events in History. American Book Co. 
Jordan, David Starr : Science Sketches. A. C. McClurg & Co. 

The Book of Knight and Barbara. D. Appleton & Co. 
JuDD, Mary Catherine : Wigwam Stories. Ginn & Co. 
JuDSON, Katharine B. : Myths and Legends of the Great Plains. A. C. 
McClurg & Co. 

Myths and Legends of Alaska. A. C. McClurg & Co. 

Myths and Legends of the Pacific Northwest. A. C. McClurg & Co. 

Myths of California and the Old Southwest. A. C. McClurg & Co. 
Keightley, Thomas : Fairy Mythology. Macmillan Co. 



S80 Educating by Story-Telling 

Kennedy, Howard Angus: The New World Fairy Book. E. P. 

Dutton & Co. 
Kent, Charles Foster : Heroes and Crises of Early Hebrew History. 

Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Keyes, Angela M. : Stories and Story-Telling. D. Appleton & Co. 
KiNGSLEY, Charles: Greek Heroes. Henry Altemus. 

Hypatia. Century Co. 

Water Babies. Macmillan Co. 

Westward Ho ! A. L. Burt Co. 
Kipling, Rudyard : Jungle Book. Century Co. 

Just So Stories. Doubleday, Page & Co. 

Puck of Pook's Hill. Doubleday, Page & Co. 

Second Jungle Book. Century Co. 
Knight, James : Food and Its Function. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
KoROLENKO, Z. : The Book of Easter. Macmillan Co. 
Laboulaye, Edouard Rene : Fairy Tales of All Nations. E. P. 
Dutton & Co. 

Last Fairy Tales. Harper & Brothers. 
Lagerlof, Selma : Christ Legends. Henry Holt & Co. 

The Wonderful Adventures of Nils. Doubleday, Page & Co. 

The Further Adventures of Nils. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Lamb, Charles and Mary : Tales from Shakespeare. 
Lang, Andrew : Animal Story Book. Longmans, Green & Co. 

Blue Fairy Book. A. L. Burt Co. 

Green Fairy Book. A. L. Burt Co. 

Lilac Fairy Book. Longmans, Green & Co. 

Orange Fairy Book. Longmans, Green & Co. 

Red Fairy Book. A. L. Burt Co. 

True Story Book. Longmans, Green & Co. 

Yellow Fairy Book. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Lang, Jeanie : Robert the Bruce. E. P. Dutton & Co. 

Stories from Shakespeare Told to Children. E. P. Dutton & Co. 

The Story of General Gordon. E. P. Dutton & Co. 
Lanier, Sidney : The Boy's King Arthur. Charles Scribner's Sons. 

The Boy's Mabinogion. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Lansing, Marion Florence : Page, Esquire, and Knight. Ginn & Co. 

Quaint Old Stories to Read and Act. Macmillan Co. 
Lea, John : Romance of Bird Life. J. B. Lippincott Co. 
Lindsay, Maud : Mother Stories. Milton Bradley Co. 

More Mother Stories. Milton Bradley Co. 

The Story-Teller for Little Children. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co, 



Complete Bibliography 381 

LocKHART, John Gibson: Ancient Spanish Ballads. E. P. Dutton 

& Co. 
Lodge, Henry Cabot: George Washington. 2 volumes. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 
Lodge, Henry Cabot, and Roosevelt, Theodore : Frontier Towns, 

and Other Essays. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth: Poems. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Lowell, Francis Cabot : Joan of Arc. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Lowes, Emily Leigh: Chats on Old Lace and Needlework. F. A. 

Stokes Co. 
LiJTKENHAus, Anna M., and Knox, Margaret: Plays for School 

Children. Century Co. 
Lyman, Edna : Story-Telling: What to Tell and How to Tell It. A. C. 

McClurg & Co. 
Mabie, Hamilton W. : Folk Tales Every Child Should Know. Double- 
day, Page & Co. 
Norse Stories from the Eddas. Rand-McNally «& Co. 
Macdonnell, Anne: Italian Fairy Book. F. A. Stokes Co. 
MacLeod, R. : King Arthur and His Noble Knights. A. L. Burt Co. 
MacManus, Seumas: Donegal Fairy Tales. Doubleday, Page & Co. 

In Chimney Corners. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
McMurry, Charles A. : Pioneers of the Mississippi Valley. Mac- 

millan Co. 
Special M-ethod in Primary Reading. Macmillan Co. 
Maeterlinck, Madame Maurice : The Children's Blue Bird. Dodd, 

Mead & Co. 
Magruder, C. S. : Tale of Ancient Persia. Broadway Publishing Co. 
March, Daniel: Night Scenes in the Bible. Seigler, McCurdy Co. 
Marden, Orison Swett : Winning Out. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
Marshall, H. E. : Stories of Roland. E. P. Dutton & Co. 

The Story of William Tell. E. P. Dutton & Co. 
Matheson, George : Representative Men of the Bible. 3 volumes. 

George H. Doran Co. 
Matthews, Agnes: The Champions of Christendom. Ginn & Co. 
Menefee, Maud: Child Stories from the Masters. Rand-McNally 

&Co. 
Miles, Alfred H. : Animal Anecdotes. F. A. Stokes Co. 
Miller, Ellen R. : Butterfly and Moth Book. Charles Scribner's 

Sons. 
Miller, Harriet: Kristy's Rainy Day Picnics. 
True Bird Stories. Houghton Mifflin Co. 



382 Educating by Story-Telling 

Miller, Joaquin : True Bear Stories. Rand-McNally «& Co. 
Miller, Olive Thorne : The Second Book of Birds. Houghton Mifflin 

Co. 
Mills, Enos A. : In the Beaver World. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
MiTFORD, Freeman: Tales of Old Japan. Macmillan Co. 
Moore, Charles W. : Abraham Lincoln. Houghton Mifflin Co. 

Christopher Columbus. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
MoRLEY, Margaret W. : Butterflies and Bees. Ginn & Co. 
Morris, William : Sigurd, the Volsung. Longmans, Green & Co. 
Morse, Frances Clary: Furniture of the Olden Time. MacmiUan 

Co. 
MouLTON, Louise Chandler : Bed-time Stories. Little, Brown & Co. 
Nepos, C. : Tales of Great Generals. Oxford Press. 
Nicholson, J. S. : Tales from Ariosto. Macmillan Co. 
NiEBUHR, Barthold Georg : Greek Hero Stories. Dodd, Mead & Co. 
NixoN-RouLET, Mary F. : Fairy Tales a Child Can Bead and Act. 

American Book Co. 
Japanese Folk Stories. American Book Co. 
Norton, Edith Eliza: Bugs in Their Native Land. Dodd, Mead 

& Co. 
NoYEs, Marion L, and Ray, Blanche H. : Little Plays for Little 

People. Ginn «& Co. 
O'Grady, Alice : The Story-Teller's Book. Rand-McNally & Co. 
Olcott, Frances J. : Bible Stories to Read and Tell. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 
Good Stories for Great Holidays. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
The Arabian Nights. Henry Holt & Co. 
OzAKi, Yei Theodora : Japanese Fairy Tales. A. L. Burt & Co. 
Partridge, Emelyn N. and George E. : Story-Telling in the Home 

and School. Sturgis & Walton. 
Peabody, Josephine Preston : Old Greek Folk Stories. Houghton 

Mifflin Co. 
Perrault, Charles : Tales for Children from Many Lands. 
Perry, F. M., and Beebe, Katherine: Four American Pioneers. 

American Book Co. 
Perry, Stella George Stern: When Mother Lets Us Act. MofTat, 

Yard & Co. 
Phelps, Elizabeth Stuart : David and Jonathan. Harper «& Brothers. 
Pierson, Clara Dillingham: Among the Farmyard People. E. P. 

Dutton & Co. 
Pitman, Leila Webster : Stories of Old France. American Book Co. 



Complete Bibliography 383 

Planche, James Robinson : History of British Costume. Macmillan Co. 
Porter, Gene Stratton : Moths of the Limberlost. Doubleday, 

Page & Co. 
Porter, Jermain G. : Stars in Song and Legend. Ginn & Co. 
Potter, Beatrix : Peter Rabbit. Frederick Warne & Co. 

Squirrel Nutkin. Frederick Warne & Co. 
PouLssoN, Emilie: Child Stories and Rhymes. Milton Bradley Co. 
In the Child World. Milton Bradley Co. 
Top of the World Series. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
Pratt, M. L. : Stories of Colonial Children. Educational Publishing 

Co. 
Price, Lillian Louise : Lads and Lassies of Other Days. Silver, 
Burdett & Co. 
Wandering Heroes. Silver, Burdett & Co. 
Pringle, Mary P., and Urann, Clara A. : Yule-Tide in Many Lands. 

Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
PuMPHREY, Margaret B. : Pilgrim Stories. Rand-McNally Co. 
Pyle, Howard: Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Charles 
Scribner's Sons. 
Stories of King Arthur and His Knights. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
The Wonder Clock. Harper & Brothers. 
QuiLLER-CoucH, SiR Arthur Thomas : The Roll Call of Honor. Sully 

& Kleinteich. 
Ragozin, Zenaide Alexeievna : Siegfried and Beowulf. G. P. 

Putnam's Sons. 
Ramaswami Raju : Indian Fables. E. P. Dutton & Co. 
Ransom, Caroline Louise : Studies in Ancient Furniture. Univer- 
sity of Chicago Press. 
Renninger, Elizabeth D. : The Story of Rustem. Charles Scribner's 

Sons. 
Rhead, J. S. : Arabian Nights. Harper & Brothers. 
Rhys, Ernest: English Fairy Book (Fairy Gold) . E. P. Dutton & Co. 
Rice, Alice Hegan : Betty's Best Christmas. Century Co. 
Richards, Laura E. : Five Minute Stories. Dana Estes & Co. 
Florence Nightingale, the Angel of the Crimea. D. Appleton & Co. 
The Golden Windows. Little, Brown & Co. 
The Pig Brother. Little, Brown & Co. 
Roberts, Charles G. D. : Kindred of the Wild. L. C. Page & Co. 
Kings in Exile. Macmillan Co. 
Earth's Enigmas. L. C. Page & Co. 
Haunters of the Silences. L. C. Page & Co. 



384 Educating by Story-Telling 

St. John, Porter: The Story in Moral and Religious Education. 

Pilgrim Press. 
Sangster, Margaret E., and Yonge, Charlotte M. : Stories from 

the Best of Books. Harper & Brothers. 
Sawyer, Ruth : This Way to Christmas. Heirper & Brothers. 
Schauffler, Robert Haven : Arbor Day. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
Book of Thanksgiving. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
Christmas: Its Origin, Celebration, etc. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
Lincoln's Birthday. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
Memorial Day. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
Washington s Birthday. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
ScoBEY, Kathrine L., and Horne, Olive B. : Stories of Great Musi- 
cians. American Book Co. 
Scott, Emma : How the Flag Became Old Glory. Macmillan Co. 
ScuDDER, Horace E. : Fables and Folk Stories. Houghton Mifflin Co. 

The Children's Book. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Sea WELL, Molly Elliot : The Son of Columbus. Harper & Brothers. 
Seton, Ernest Thompson : Animal Heroes. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Sharman, Lyon : Bamboo : Tales of the Orient Born. Paul Elder & Co. 
Shedlock, Marie L. : The Art of the Story-Teller. D. Appleton & Co. 
SiDGWiCK, Ethel : Four Plays for Children. Small, Maynard & Co. 
Singleton, Esther : Furniture of Our Forefathers. Doubleday, 

Page & Co. 
Skeat, Walter W. : Fables and Folk-Tales from an Eastern Forest. 

G. P. Putnam's Sons. 
Skinner, Ada M. : Little Folks' Christmas Stories and Plays. Rand- 
McNaUy & Co. 
Stories of Wakeland and Dreamland. Rand-McNally & Co. 
Skinner, Charles M. : American Myths and Legends. 2 volumes. 
J. B. Lippincott Co. 
Myths and Legends beyond Our Borders. J. B. Lippincott Co. 
Myths of Plants, Trees, and Flowers. J. B. Lippincott Co. 
Slosson, Annie Trumbull : Story-tell Lib. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Sly, William J. : World Stories Retold. George W. Jacobs Co. 
Smith, Bertha H. : Yosemite Legends. Paul Elder Co. 
Smith, George Adam : A Historic Geography of the Holy Land. George 

H. Doran Co. 
Smith, Nora A. : Old, Old Tales from the Old, Old Book. Doubleday, 

Page & Co. 
Snedeker, Caroline D. : The Coward of Thermopylae. Doubleday, 
Page & Co. 



Complete Bibliography 385 

SouTHEY, Robert: Poems. Oxford Press. 

Spofford, Harriet E. : Life of Nelson. E. P. Dutton & Co. 

The Fairy Changeling. Richard G. Badger. 
Steel, Flora Aistnie : Tales of the Punjab. Macmillan Co. 
Stein, Evaleen : Troubadour Tales. Bobbs-Merrill Co. 
Sterling, Mary Blakewell: Story of Sir Galahad. E. P. Dutton 

&Co. 
Stevenson, Augusta : Children s Classics in Dramatic Form. Hough- 
ton Mifflin Co. 
Stevenson, Elizabeth S. : Days and Deeds. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Stevenson, R. L. : David Balfour. Charles Scribner's Sons. 

Island Nights' Entertainments. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Stockton, Frank R. : Fanciful Tales. Charles Scribner's Sons. 

The Bee-Man of Orn. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Stoddard, John L. : South Tyrol. Geo. L. Shuman & Co. 
Stone, Gertrude Lincoln : Trees in Prose and Poetry. Ginn & Co. 
Strickland, Agnes: Queens of England. American Book Co. 

Queens of Scotland. 2 volumes. Macmillan Co. 
Sweetser, Kate D. : Boys and Girls from Dickens. Harper & Brothers. 
Boys and Girls from George Eliot. Duffield & Co. 
Boys and Girls from Thackeray. Duffield & Co. 
Sweetser, M. F. : Artist Biographies. 4 volumes. Raphael and 
Leonardo, Angelo and Titian, Claude Lorrain and Reynolds, Tur- 
ner and Landseer, Diirer and Rembrandt, Van Dyck and Angelica, 
Murillo and Allston. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
SwiNTON, William, and Cathcart, George R. : Books of Tales. 

American Book Company. 
Tappan, Eva March : American Hero Stories. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
In the Days of Alfred the Great. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
In the Days of William the Conqueror. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
Robin Hood, His Book. Little, Brown & Co. g, 
The Golden Goose. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Tennyson, Alfred : Poems. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Thompson, Jeanette May : Water Wonders Every Child Should Know. 

Doubleday, Page & Co. 
ToMLiNSON, Everett : Young Folks' History of the American Revolu- 
tion. Grosset & Dunlap. 
Tucker, Louise E., and Ryan, Estelle L. : Historical Plays of Colo- 
nial Days. Longmans, Green & Co. 
Upton, George P. : William Tell {Life Stories for Young People). 
G. P. Putnam's Sons. 



386 Educating by Story-Telling 

Van Dyke, Henry : The First Christmas Tree. Grosset & Dunlap. 
The Lost Boy. Harper & Brothers. 
The Mansion. Harper & Brothers. 
Van Dyke, Henry, and Abbott, Lyman : Women of the Bible. Htirper 

& Brothers. 
Vasari, Georgio : Lives of the Painters. 4 volumes. Charles Scrib- 

ner's Sons. 
Verhoeff, Carolyn: All about Johnny Jones. Milton Bradley Co. 
Wallace, Lew : Ben Hur. Harper & Brothers. 
Walsh, K. : The Story of Santa Claus. Moffat, Yard & Co. 
Warman, Cy : Short Rails. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Warner, Charles Dudley : Being a Boy. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Warren, Henry Pitt : Stories from English History. D. C. Heath 

& Co. 
Warren, Maude Radford : Robin Hood and His Merry Men. Rand- 

McNaUy & Co. 
Waters, Clara Erskine Clement : Saints in Art. L. C. Page & Co. 

Stories of Art and Artists. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Weed, Clarence M. : Bird Life Stories. Rand-McNally & Co. 
Wells, Carolyn : Jolly Plays for Holidays. Walter H. Baker. 
Westervelt, W. D. : Legends of Old Honolulu. George H. Ellis & 

Co., Boston. 
Wheelock, Elizabeth M. : Stories of the Wagner Operas. Bobbs- 

Merrill Co. 
Whipple, Wayne : The Story Life of Lincoln. John C. Winston 

Co. 
White, Eliza Orne: When Molly Was Six. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
WiGGiN, Kate Douglas: The Birds' Christmas Carol. Houghton 

MiffUn Co. 
WiGGiN, Kate Douglas, and Smith, Nora E. : Tales of Laughter. 
Doubleday, Page & Co. 
Talking Beast Fables from India. Doubleday, Page & Co. 
The Children's Hour. Milton Bradley Co. 
The Fairy Ring. Doubleday, Page Co. 
The Story Hour. Houghton Mifflin Co. 
Wilde, Oscar : The Happy Prince. Frederick A. Stokes Co. 
WiLLisTON, Teresa P. : Japanese Fairy Tales. Rand-McNally & Co. 
WiLMOT-BuxTON, Ethel M. : A Book of Noble Women. Small, 
Maynard & Co. 
Stories from Old French Romance. F. A. Stokes Co. 
Stories of Persian Heroes. T. Y. Crowell Co. 



Complete Bibliography 387 

Wilson, Calvin Dill : The Story of the Cid. Lolhrop, Lee & Shepard 
Co. 

WiLTSE, Sara E. : The Story in Early Education. Ginn & Co. 
Hero Folk of Ancient Britain. Ginn & Co. 

Wbadislaw, a. H. : Slavonian Fairy Tales. Houghton Mifflin Co. 

Wright, Mabel Osgood : Birdcraft. Macmillan Co. 
Gray Lady and the Birds. Macmillan Co. 

Wright, Mabel Osgood, and Coues, Elliott : Citizen Bird. Mac- 
millan Co. 

Wyche, Richard Thomas : Some Great Stories and How to Tell Them. 
Newson & Co. 

ZiTKALA-SA : Old Indian Legends. Ginn & Co. 



COLLECTIONS OF STORIES OF WHICH AUTHORS ARE 
NOT GIVEN 

Cat Stories Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 

Civil War Stories Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 

Colonial Stories Retold from Si. Nicholas. Century Co. 

Dumpy Books for Children, The. Frederick A. Stokes Co. 

Great Masters in Painting and Sculpture. George Bell & Sons. 

Half a Hundred Stories. Milton Bradley Co. 

Indian Stories Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 

Master Musician Series. E. P. Dutton «&; Co. 

Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 

Panther Stories Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 

St. Nicholas Book of Plays and Operettas. Century Co. 

Stories from the Classic Literature of Many Nations. Macmillan Co. 

Stories of Chivalry Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 

Stories of the Ancient World Retold from St. Nicholas. Century Co. 



INDEX 



Abraham, story of, suitable for 
children in heroic period, 124. 

Adventure stories, period for tell- 
ing, to children, 32 ; opportunity 
offered by, 32-33 ; class of per- 
nicious, 33 ; examples of good, 
34-40; sources of material for, 
41 ; found in Old Testament, 
124-128. 

yEsop's fables, suitability of, for 
acting in pantomime, 114. 

Alp horn, Swiss legend of the, 274. 

Alsatian folk tale, "The Story of 
the Man in the Moon," 203. 

American Folklore Society, work 
of, 172. 

Andersen, H. C, high character of 
tales by, 28 ; beginnings of tales 
by, 54. 

Animals, fascination of stories in- 
troducing cries and calls of, 14. 

"Apollo and Daphne," story of, of 
little meaning to young children, 
37. 

Arabian folk tales retold, 195, 269. 

Art, story-telling to awaken an 
appreciation of, 95-106; music 
and, to be drawn upon by the 
Bible story-teller, 129-130 ; 
story to use in connection with 
teaching, 283. 

Arthur, King, stories of, as sources 
of material for heroic period, 
35-36 ; enjoyed in romantic 
period 43 ; care necessary in 
use of tales from, 43-44 ; ma- 
terial for dramatic work in, 
114. 

Aryan theory. Max Miiller's, 3. 

Bailey, Carolyn Sherwin, Stories for 

Sunday Telling by, 137. 
Bancroft, George, legend "Why 

Grizzly Bear Groes on All Fours " 

adapted from, 299. 



Basile, Giambattista, early collec- 
tor of fairy tales, 26. 

"Bat and His Peu-tners, The," 
story of, 208. 

Bavarian folk tales, 208, 228. 

Bayard, story of, admirable for 
heroic period, 38. 

Beginnings of stories, 54-55. 

"Belle au Bois Dormant," Per- 
rault's, 26. 

Ben Hur, to be read by tellers of 
Bible stories, 123. 

Bible stories, history tales suitable 
for heroic period found among, 
40; in The Courtship of Miles 
Standish, 79-80; discussion of 
use of, in story-teUing, 118-130. 

Biographical stories, suitable for 
heroic period, 38-39; types of, 
suited to romantic period, 45-47 ; 
as a means of interesting children 
in authors' works, 71-73 ; use of, 
in field of art, 98-101 ; material 
in, for teaching of ethics, 140; 
use of, in history teaching, 145- 
146; story of "The Duty That 
Wasn't Paid," 278; story of 
" Wilhehnina's Wooden Shoes," 
283. 

"Blue Beard," first appearance of, 
26 ; not suitable for children, 29. 

Bonheur, Rosa, pictures by, suit- 
able for little children, 99. 

"Boy of Old Vienna, A," story of, 
89-93. 

Bradley, Will, "The Wonder Box" 
by, 28. 

Breton, Jules, introducing children 
to paintings by, 103-104. 

"Brier Rose," story of, 25; re- 
teUing of, 209-212. 

Building the story, 52-57. 



Cabot, Ella Lyman, Ethics for 
Children by, 136. 



389 



S90 



Index 



Chapin, Anna Alice, The Story of 
Parsifal by, 44. 

Charlemagne, stories of time of, 
suitable for heroic period, 37- 
38; stories of, suitable for 
romantic period, 45. 

Children, story interests of, in 
rhythmic period, 12 ff. ; stages 
of mental growth of, determining 
story interests, 13 ; story in- 
terests in imaginative period, 
20-30; story interests in heroic 
period, 32-41 ; story interests 
in romantic period, 42-50. 

Children's Crusade, story of, 46. 

Chinese folk tale, "How They 
Came to Have Kite Day in 
China," 330. 

Christmas stories, 203. 

Chubb, Festivals and Plays by, 114. 

Cid, story of the, suitable for 
heroic period, 38. 

"Cinderella," common to many 
lands, 25 ; published by Per- 
rault, 27. 

Classics, mistake of stxjdying by 
dissecting process, 75-76 ; study 
of, by story method, 77-81. 

Claude Lorrain, works of, for 
children of intermediate period, 
102. 

Chmax, working up to a, 55-57 ; 
rapid closing of story after reach- 
ing, 57. 

"Coat of All Colors, The," story 
of, retold from Grimm, 212. 

Coffee, story of discovery of, 195- 
197. 

"Coming of the Wonder Tree, 
The," story of, 269. 

Composers, introducing children 
to, by story-telling, 86-89. 

Contentment, stories teaching, 204, 
251. 

Contes du Temps Passe avec Morali- 
tes, publication of, 27. 



Coral polyp, story of the, 185-186, 
188-190. 

Correggio, acquainting little chil- 
dren with, 101. 

Courtship of Miles Standish, study 
of, by story method, 79-80. 

Craig, The Dramatic Festival by, 
114. 

Cruelty, an undesirable element in 
stories, 29. 

"Cupid and Psyche," of little 
meaning to young children, 37. 

Darmancour, P., collection of fairy 
tales pubUshed by, 26-27. 

Date palm, story of origin of the, 
269. 

"David and Jonathan," Miss 
Phelps's, appeal of, for chil- 
dren, 16. 

" Dervish of Mocha, The, " Arabian 
folk tale retold, 195-197. 

Dialogue, use of, in story-telhng, 
53 ; change of voice in, to add 
to clearness of pictures, 64. 

Dickens, Charles, experience of, in 
recommending fairy tales for 
children, 29. 

" Discontented Pig, The," story of, 
204-207. 

Dissection method of studying 
classics in schools, 75-76. 

"Dog of Flanders," Ouida's, 16. 

Dole, Nathan Haskell, quoted, 
49. 

Domestic science, use of story- 
telling in, 192-197. 

Dramatization, story-telling and, 
107-116; pictures, books, and 
stories for use in, 116. 

Drunkenness in parents, unde- 
sirable element in stories, 29-30. 

Dutch legend, "The Lady of 
Stavoren," 289. 

"Duty That Wasn't Paid,' The," 
story of, 278. 



Index 



391 



"Easter Eggs, The," story of, 229. 

Ebers, Georg, quoted on fairy 
tales, 22-24 ; novels by, suitable 
for romantic period, 49-50. 

Ekkehard, recommended for high 
school pupils, 49. 

"Emperor's Vision, The," legend 
of, 306. 

Entertainment, not the chief aim 
of story-teUing, 9. 

Epic subjects, sources of story 
material in, 35-38; suitable for 
romantic period, 44-45 ; paint- 
ings that portray, 104-105. 

Esenwein, Berg, rules as to story- 
telUng by, 54. 

Ethics, story-telling and the teach- 
ing of, 132-140 ; stories to use 
for teaching, 203, 204, 218, 222, 
229, 251, 274, 278, 289, 299, 
302, 306, 311, 317. 

Europe, general knowledge and 
love of music in, 83-84 ; knowl- 
edge of art possessed by average 
person in, as contrasted with 
average American, 95-97. 

Evangeline, study of, by story 
method, 78-79. 

Facial gymnastics in story-telhng, 
use of, 63. 

"Fairy, The," publication of, 26. 

Fairy stories, origin of, 20-21 ; 
care in use of, with children, 
21-22 ; question of encouraging 
falsehood by, 22-24; theories 
as to begiimings of, 25-26 ; one 
of the oldest forms of literature, 
26 ; early collections, 26-27 ; 
care necessary in selecting, for 
children, 28-29; elements in, 
to be especially guarded against, 
29-30 ; bibliography of, 31. 

"Fall of London Bridge, The," 
story of, 326. 

Fallersleben, H von, story of 



"The Forget-me-not" adapted 

from, 226. 
Falsehood, not encouraged by fairy 

tales, 22-24. 
"Forget-me-not, The," story of, 

226. 

Gainsborough, pictures by, suitable 
for little children, 99. 

Geneva, Lake, luck boat of, 5 ; 
story of, retold, 295. 

Geography, story-telling to in- 
tensify interest in, 168-177 ; 
stories to use in teaching, 222, 
269, 274, 289, 295, 296, 299, 
302, 317. 

Gest, Lady Charlotte, translator of 
the Mabinogion, 36. 

Gesture in story-teUing, question 
of use of, 63. 

"Gift of the Gnomes, The," story 
of, 274. 

Glinski, story of "Prince Unex- 
pected" adapted from, 239. 

"God of the Thundering Water, 
The," Iroquois legend, 174-176. 

" Goody-goody" stories, harm done 
by, 133-134. 

"Great Stone Face," chmax of, 56. 

"Greedy Cobbler, The," story of, 
251. 

Greek myths, as source material 
for stories for heroic period, 
36-37. 

Grimm Brothers, appearance of, 
as collectors and preservers of 
Thuringian folklore, 27 ; be- 
ginnings of stories by, 54 ; 
stories retold from, 209, 212, 
218. 

Guerber, Helene A., Legends of the 
Middle Ages by, 44. 

Halevy, Ludovic, fascination of 

stories by, 50. 
"Half-Chick," source of, 25. 



Index 



Hall, G. Stanley, plea of, in behalf 
of Bible stories, 118-119. 

"Hansel and Gretel, " modification 
of, for children, 30. 

Heroic period, story interests in, 
32-41 ; works of art suitable for, 
104-105 ; Bible stories for, 123 ; 
Old Testament stories suitable 
for, 124. 

Hiawatha, as material for stories 
for heroic period, 38 ; material 
for dramatic work in, 114. 

History, stories from, suitable for 
children in heroic period, 38-40 ; 
plays and pageants to be used 
in connection with, 115; ma- 
terial found in stories from, for 
teaching of ethics, 140; story- 
telling to intensify interest in, 
143-167 ; stories to use in 
teaching, 263, 326. 

Honesty, story to teach, 203. 

Hood, Margaret Graham, "The 
Search for the Seven Cities" 
by, 149-167. 

"Hop o' My Thumb," first ap- 
pearance of, 27. 

"How They Came to Have Kite 
Day in China," Chinese folk 
tale, 330. 

Iliad, stories from, suitable for 

children in heroic period, 35 ; 

material for romantic period in, 

44. 
Imaginative period, story interests 

in, 20-30. 
Indian legends, stories based on, 

174, 299. 

Jacques, introducing children to 
paintings by, 103-104. 

Japanese legend, "Why the Jap- 
anese Love the Stork," 296. 

Jerusalem Delivered, material for 
romantic period in, 44. 



John of Hildesheim, works of, a 

help to the Bible story-teller, 

123. 
Jordan, David Starr, science stories 

by, 182-183; "The Story of a 

Salmon" by, 255; "The Story 

of a Stone" by, 331. 
Joshua, book of, as an adventure 

story, 125. 
Judges, book of, viewed as a 

collection of narratives, 126. 
"Jussieu and the Heliotrope," 

story of, 325. 

Key, EUen, use of love stories in 
romantic period advocated by, 
48. 

Kindness, story teaching, 218. 

Labor, artists and paintings that 

lead to respect for, 104. 
"Lady of Stavoren, The," story 

of, 289. 
Lagerlbf, Selma, works of, a help 

to the Bible story-teller, 123 ; 

legend of "The Emperor's 

Vision" adapted from, 306. 
Landseer, Sir Edwin, pictures by, 

suitable for little children, 98- 

99. 
Lang, Andrew, totemistic theory 

of, 3, 25. 
Langobardian myths, interesting 

in romantic period, 45. 
Lanier, Sidney, The Boys Mabino- 

gion by, 36; The Boy's King 

Arthur by, 44. 
"Last Lesson," Daudet's, climax 

of, 56. 
Libraries, story-telling in, 9. 
Literature, story-teUing to lead to 

appreciation of, 69-82. 
"Little Stepmother, The," story 

of, 227. 
"London Bridge, The Fall of," 

story of, 326. 



Index 



393 



Longfellow, H. W., study of poems 

of, by story method, 78-80. 
Love stories, use of, with children 

in romantic period, 48-49. 
" Luck Boat of Lake Geneva, The," 

Swiss legend, 5 ; retold, 295. 
"Luck Boy of Toy Valley, The," 

story of, 302. 
Lying, fairy tales and, 22-24. 

Mabinogion, stories from, suitable 
for heroic period, 35, 36 ; ma- 
terial for dramatic work in, 114. 

MacManus, Seumas, quoted, 7. 

Madonna pictures, use of, with 
Uttle children, 100-101. 

"Man in the Moon, The Story of 
the," 203-204. 

Manual training, use of story- 
telling in, 192-197; story of 
"The Luck Boy of Toy Valley" 
for use in, 302. 

Marlitt, Eugenie, works of, suitable 
for romantic period, 49. 

Memorizing of stories, a mistake, 
63. 

Millet, introducing children to 
paintings by, 103-104. 

"Monarch, the Big Bear of Tal- 
lac," Thompson Seton's, 16-17. 

Moni the Goat Boy, suitable for the 
romantic period, 49. 

Moralizing, avoidance of, 67-68. 

Moral training, story-telUng and, 

" 132-140. See Ethics. 

Mother Goose, reason for love of 
children for, 13. 

Mozart, story of "The Duty That 
Wasn't Paid" dealing with life 
of, 278. 

Miihlbach, Louisa, novels of, for 
romantic period, 49. 

Miiller, Max, Aryan theory of, 3. 

Murillo, an ideal painter to intro- 
duce to little children, 100. 

Music, story-telling to awaken an 



appreciation of, 83-93 ; use of, 
by Bible story-tellers, 129 ; story 
to use in connection with, 278. 
Mythological subjects, paintings 
that portray, 104-105. 

Narrative style better than dia- 
logue in story-telling, 53. 

National epics, as sources of story 
material in heroic period, 35- 
38 ; portions of, suitable for 
romantic period, 44-45 ; first 
issue of, in poetic form, to be 
made clear to children, 45 ; 
paintings portraying subjects 
of, 104-105. 

Nature study, story-telling to in- 
tensify interest in, 178-190 ; 
stories helpful in, 208, 226, 227, 
255, 269, 325. 

Nibelungenlied, stories from, suit- 
able for children in heroic 
period, 35 ; material for ro- 
mantic period in, 44. 

Nightingale, Florence, story of, 
suitable for romantic period, 
46-47. 

Odyssey, stories from, suitable for 

children in heroic period, 35 ; 

material for romantic period in, 

44. 
Ogier the Dane, story of, suitable 

for heroic period, 37. 
Ohnet, Georges, novels of, for 

romantic period, 50. 
Olcott, Frances Jenkins, Bible 

Stories to Read and Tell by, 122. 
Old Testament, stories in, for 

children, 120-129. 
Ouida, "A Dog of Flanders" by, 

16; "The Child of Urbino" by, 

102. 

Pageants, use of, 115. 
Pantomime, acting stories in, 114. 



394 



Index 



"Parsifal," tale of, suitable for 

children in romantic period, 44. 
Partridge, G. E., quoted, 63. 
Pentamerone, II, early collection of 

fairy tales, 26. 
Perrault, Charles, "La BeUe au 

Bois Dormant" by, 26; Conies 

du Temps Passe avec Moralites 

credited to, 27. 
"Pet Raven, The," legend of, 317. 
Physical education, story for use 

in connection with, 330. 
Pictures, story-telling for teaching 

love of, 95-106; scenes for 

dramatization suggested by, 116 ; 

to be used in Bible story-telling, 

129-130. See Art. 
"Pied Piper," suitable for drama- 
tization by little children, 112- 

113. 
" Pigeons of Venice, The, " story of, 

263. 
"Poor Man and the Rich Man, 

The," story of, retold from 

Grimm, 218. 
Primitive-why story, period when 

child enjoys, 20. 
"Prince Unexpected," story of, 

239. 
"Puss in Boots," first appearance 

of, 26. 
" Pygmalion and Galatea, " of little 

meaning to young children, 37. 

"Rabbit and the Easter Eggs, 
The," story of, 228. 

Racial tales, fascination of, in 
rhythmic period, 14 ; enjoyment 
of, by children in imaginative 
period, 20. 

Raphael, acquainting little chil- 
dren with, 100-101 ; paintings 
by, for children of intermediate 
period, 102. 

Reahstic period in children's story 
interests, 13-18. 



Recitations, shortening of, to give 
time for story-telling, 169. 

"Red Riding Hood," first appear- 
ance of, 26 ; beginning of, 54 ; 
climax of, 56. 

Reference work necessary to story- 
telling, 11. 

Rembrandt, story of " Wilhelmina's 
Wooden Shoes" dealing with hfe 
of, 283. 

Repetition in jingles, surprise ele- 
ment in, 57. 

Repetitive stories, fascination of, 
in rhythmic period, 13-14. 

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, pictures 
by, suitable for young children, 
98. 

Rhine, legend of the, "The Pet 
Raven," 317. 

Rhythmic period, story interests 
in, 12-18. 

Richards, Laura E., Life of Florence 
Nightingale by, 47. 

" Riquet o' the Tuft, " published by 
Perrault, 27. 

Robin Hood, story of, a good ad- 
venture tale, 34-35 ; material 
for dramatic work in, 114. 

Roland and Oliver, dramatic quali- 
ties in tale of, 37. 

Romantic period, story interests of 
childhood in, 42-50. 

Rubens, pictures by, suitable for 
children of intermediate period, 
103. 

Ruskin, John, on use of Bible 
stories, 119. 

"St. George and the Dragon," a 

favorite story in heroic period, 

38. 
Scheffel, J. V. von, Ekkehard by, 

49. 
Schmidt, Canon, story of "The 

Easter Eggs" adapted from, 

229. 



Index 



395 



Schools, place given story-telling 
in, 8-9 ; time for telling stories 
in, 67 ; mistake of study of 
literature in, by dissecting 
process, 75-76; value of story- 
teUing in, 199-200. 

Schubert, Franz, story concerning 
boyhood of, 89-93. 

Science teaching, story-telling and, 
178-190; stories to use in, 255, 
325, 331. 

Scottish Highlands, story-teUing 
in, 5. 

"Search for the Seven Cities, 
The," by Margaret Graham 
Hood, 149-167. 

SentimentaUsm in stories, lack of 
response by children to, 184. 

Shasta legend, "Why Grizzly Bear 
Goes on All Fours," 299. 

Shedlock, Marie L., five minutes 
of silence after each story ad- 
vocated by, 57. 

"Shepherd Who Turned Back, 
The," Syrian legend retold, 311. 

Sicily, knowledge of classics pos- 
sessed by peasants of, 18. 

"Silver Cones, The," story of, 222. 

Slavic wonder tale, "Prince Un- 
expected," 239. 

"Sleeping Beauty," "Brier Rose" 
a modification of same story, 
25 ; pubUshed by Perrault, 26. 

Social instincts, development of, 
by use of stories with geo- 
graphical or historical back- 
ground, 170-171. 

Southey, Robert, "The Three 
Bears" by, 28. 

Spyri, Johanna, Moni the Goal 
Boy by, 49 ; story of " The 
Silver Cones" adapted from, 
222. 

Stevenson, R. L., interesting chil- 
dren in works of, by teUing 
stories about, 71-73. 



Story interests of childhood, in 
rhythmic period, 12-18 ; in 
imaginative period, 20-30 ; in 
heroic period, 32-41 ; in ro- 
mantic period, 42-50. 

"Story of a Salmon, The," by 
David Starr Jordan, 255. 

" Story of a Stone, The, " by David 
Starr Jordan, 331. 

Story-teUing, purpose and aim of, 
1-1 1 ; interests in rhythmic 
period, 12-18; interests in im- 
aginative period, 20-30; in- 
terests in heroic period, 32-41 ; 
interests in romantic period, 
42-50; building the story, 52- 
57; telUng the story, 58-68; 
and appreciation of literature, 
69-82 ; to awaken an apprecia- 
tion of music, 83-93 ; and 
appreciation of art, 95-106 ; 
and dramatization, 107-117; 
Bible stories, 118-131 ; teaching 
of ethics, 132-140; to intensify 
interest in history, 143-167 ; to 
intensify interest in geography, 
168-177 ; and nature study, 178- 
190 ; in teaching domestic 
science and manual training, 
192-197; general statement as 
to value of, 198-201. 

Story-writing, course in, recom- 
mended for the professional 
story-teller, 52. 

Straparola, pubhsher of first col- 
lection of fairy tales, 26. 

Supernatural beUefs, primitive 
man's, as revealed in fairy 
tales, 25-27; effect of physical 
features of different regions 
upon, and so upon fairy tales, 
27. 

Surprise element in stories, 55-57. 

Suspense, element of, 6, 55 ; in- 
crease in, by use of pauses, 
64-65. 



396 



Index 



Swedish legend, "The Emperor's 

Vision," 306. 
"Sweet and Low," suggested 

method of interesting children 

in, 73-74. 
Swiss legends retold, 274, 311. 
Syrian legend, "The Shepherd 

Who Turned Back," 311. 

Talking machines, use of, for 
introducing children to music, 
86, 89. 

Tell, William, stories of, suitable 
for children in heroic period, 39. 

Thuringian folk tales, gathered 
and preserved by the Grimms, 
27; retold, 204, 209, 212, 218, 
226, 227. 

Totemistic theory, Lang's, 3, 25. 

"Ugly Duckling," unsuitable for 
children who have never been 
in country, 15 ; surprise element 
in climax of, 56. 

Van Dyck, Anthony, familiarizing 



little children with paintings by, 
101. 

Van Dyke, Henry, on avoidance 
of moralizing in story-telling, 
67 ; works of, a help to the 
Bible story-teller, 123. 

Vedas, theory of origin of fairy 
stories in the, 25. 

"Venice, The Pigeons of," story 
of, 263. 

Vincent, Jacques, fascination of 
stories by, 50. 

Vocational training, use of story- 
telling in, 192-197. 

Welsh folk tale, "The Greedy 

Cobbler," 251. 
"Why Grizzly Bear Goes on All 

Fours," Shasta legend, 299. 
"Why the Japanese Love the 

Stork," Japanese legend, 296. 
" Wilhelmina's Wooden Shoes, " 

story of, 283. 
"Wonderful Builders, The," story 

of, 188-190. 
Wonder tales, period when child 

enjoys, 20. 



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